Chapter 3

Just as Peter's hand was about to reach me, I twisted to the side and slammed my foot into his knee.

Peter let out a howl of pain, clutching his leg as he went down hard.

Fiona stood there, shocked.

She yelled, "How dare you hit my son?"

I shot her a cold glare and shot back, "He had it coming."

"You ungrateful brat! We've wasted years raising you for nothing," Fiona screamed, her whole body trembling with rage.

She snatched up a broom from the corner and swung it at my head.

I didn't flinch.

I reached out and caught the other end of the broom, holding it steady.

We were stuck, neither of us budging.

I sneered, "Raised me for nothing?

"You've been cashing those welfare checks for me since I was born, but not a dime ever went to my mouth, did it?

"I've been digging through garbage just to survive since I was six, and most of what I found had to go straight to you. If I didn't hand it over, you'd beat me.

"You live in this house because I pay the rent. The food you eat? I scraped together cash from collecting bottles to put it on the table.

"So tell me, who's really keeping who alive here?"

I'd never said any of this out loud before.

I always thought if I kept my head down and did what they wanted, maybe I'd get a little peace.

But I was wrong.

Mercy for monsters was cruelty to myself.

Fiona's face went from red to white in a flash.

She snapped, "That's bullshit! We took care of you, and this is the thanks we get? Making up these lies?"

Comments popped up. One read: [She's totally freaking out.]

Another read: [Sylvia finally said it. I've been waiting forever for her to speak up!]

A comment read: [Those two bloodsuckers totally deserve it!]

"Why don't we go down to the local office and see who's telling the truth?" I shot back, my voice steady and defiant.

I yanked the broom out of her hands and tossed it to the floor.

I said, "From now on, not a single cent of my money is going to you.

"I'm giving up the lease on this place tomorrow. You figure it out."

With that, I turned and walked into my cramped little room, barely space to turn around, slammed the door, and locked it tight.

Outside, I could hear Fiona and Peter shouting curses and banging on the door.

Fiona screamed, "Sylvia, you little monster! Get your ass out here!"

"You think you can just walk out on us? I'll cripple you!" Peter yelled.

I didn't even bother listening. Let them scream all they want.

I dragged out an old, battered metal box from under my bed. Inside was everything I'd managed to squirrel away these past few years.

All of it added up to just a thousand. That was my entire war chest.

That was my entire war chest.

One comment read: [That's nothing. What can she even do with that?]

Another read: [Don't lose hope. Sylvia's knowledge is priceless. She knows more about scrap collecting than anyone!]

A comment read: [Yeah! She knows exactly which circuit boards sell for top dollar, and which plastics can make bank!]

The chat was hyping me up.

I opened up my beat-up copy of Recycling and Reusing Resources Handbook, my treasure from the used book market.

I really needed money. A lot of it.

I needed a company. One that would let me go head-to-head with Nathan.

I didn't care about reuniting with my so-called family.

What I wanted was to make Nathan watch as everything he was proud of got trampled beneath my feet.

Just then, my beat-up phone started ringing.

It was an unknown number.

I hesitated for a moment, my mind racing, then answered the call.

On the other end, a man's voice came through, cold and completely emotionless.

He said, "Are you Sylvia Lynch?

"This is Nathan Sherman's lawyer.

"I'm calling about the damage you did to Ms. Sophia Davis's car today, and the defamation of Mr. Nathan Sherman's reputation. On behalf of my client, I'm officially filing a lawsuit against you.

"The compensation amount is one million dollars.

"Oh, and Mr. Sherman wanted me to tell you something."

He paused, and the arrogance in his tone practically spilled out of the receiver.

Then he continued, "Mr. Nathan Sherman said, since the game's started, you'd better play by the rules.

"He's curious to see what kind of tricks you, a rat rolling around in the mud, can pull off next."

With that, the call ended.

1 million. That number felt like a mountain pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe.

I looked at the crumpled bills in my hand, barely a thousand bucks, and just laughed.

Desperate? No. I was pumped.

Nathan was finally stepping into the ring himself.

The slum nights were starless.

With everything I owned in my hands, I left the so-called "home" I'd lived in for eighteen years.

Fiona's angry shouts faded into the distance as I walked away.

One comment read: [Where's Sylvia going? She doesn't even have a place to crash now.]

Another read: [1 million. Nathan's seriously ruthless. Is he trying to push Sylvia to the edge or what?]

A comment read: [He's not trying to finish her off. He just wants to break her, watch her squirm in misery.]

I walked into a 24-hour diner.

The thick smell of coffee and grease hit me as soon as I stepped inside.

I paid for a bottomless cup and took a booth in the farthest, darkest corner.

I needed a plan, a way to score cash fast and go toe-to-toe with Nathan.