Chapter 2

I had barely made it out of the mall when someone grabbed my wrist from behind and jerked me back, hard.

It was Dad.

He barked, "Stop right there. Have you lost your mind? Where do you think you're going?"

"Let go of me!" I yelled, struggling as my nails raked across the back of his hand, drawing blood.

He froze for a split second, then his face twisted with rage.

His hand cracked across my cheek, echoing through the air.

The blow sent me sprawling to the floor.

"How dare you? All this fuss over some money, and you want to ditch your own parents? How did I end up raising such a heartless ingrate?" Dad shouted.

I clutched my face, looking up at him and yelling, "Yeah, I'm an ingrate. You made me this way!"

All those years, no matter how much it hurt, I'd barely whisper a protest, then just suck it up and take it.

I kept telling myself, if I was good enough, maybe they'd spare me a little love someday.

But I was wrong.

So completely wrong.

Just then, Mom, Olivia, and Ryan came running out after me.

"Eileen, why are you acting out like this? Do you have to blow things up?" Mom stomped her foot, totally losing it.

"Look at you, throwing a tantrum on the floor. Seriously, what are you doing? You're making us look bad," Olivia said, her face twisted in disgust.

Ryan just started yelling, "She totally needs to learn her lesson. Dad, hit her again. Maybe that'll knock some sense into her!"

A chill ran through me.

Just then, Mom came over and crouched down in front of me.

But instead of helping me up, she grabbed my hand and shoved the necklace she'd picked up from who knows where back into my hand, not caring how rough she was.

"Alright, that's enough. Stop making a scene and get up. Just put it on and forget about it. Let's hurry back to the hotel before the tour guide gets tired of waiting," Mom said.

I yanked my hand away from her.

The necklace flew out of my hand again, this time dropping straight into the storm drain by the road.

"I told you, I don't want it!" I shouted.

"How dare you!" Mom jabbed a finger at me, furious.

Dad's temper flared again. He raised his hand, ready to slap me a second time.

Just then, a voice cut through the tension.

"Mr. Gibson, let's talk this through. Hitting her won't solve anything," the voice said.

I looked up and saw Patrick Mark from our tour group rushing over.

His wife Renee Mark and their daughter Sophia Mark were right behind him.

Sophia was about my age. As soon as she spotted the red slap mark on my face, she gasped and hurried over to help me up.

"Eileen, are you alright? Oh my god, your face... How could your dad hit you?" she cried, steadying me.

Dad saw other people watching, and his raised hand just hung there, suddenly looking all kinds of awkward.

He gave an awkward laugh and said, "Sorry you had to see that, Mr. Mark. You know how teenagers can be. So emotional."

"Her being emotional doesn't justify hitting her," Patrick said, his brow furrowed. "Eileen has always seemed like a reasonable girl to me. She doesn't seem like the type to make a scene without a real reason."

Mom quickly jumped in, trying to smooth things over and put all the blame on me.

"Please, it's our fault. We promised her a present, but we went a little over budget and couldn't buy it. She's so stubborn. When she gets upset, she throws a fit and takes it out on us," Mom said.

I couldn't hold back anymore. 18 years of pent-up hurt finally burst out.

I pointed at my family, blurting out to the Marks, "No, that's not true! They promised each of us 12,000 dollars to spend, but after they bought everything they wanted, they told me Ryan had used up my share. They never even intended to get me anything. In the end, they just tossed me a cheap 12-dollar trinket and told me to be happy with it."

The Marks looked totally stunned.

Renee stared at Mom, like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Mrs. Gibson, is that really what happened?"

Mom's and Dad's faces tightened.

"What nonsense are you spewing, you brat!" Dad barked, his face red with rage as he reached out, trying to shut me up.

I scrambled away from Dad, tears streaming down my face as I took shelter behind Patrick.

"I'm telling the truth! I paid 7,000 dollars out of my own pocket for this trip. They took all my money, and now they're just lying to my face. I won't go back with them. I just can't," I sobbed.

The Pravia night wind bit into my skin, cold and harsh.

I stared at the distant Astra Tower, and honestly, it just felt so damn ironic.

Pravia?

Screw it!