Chapter 3

That night, I took my books and slept under a bridge for the first time.

Grace called, asking if I was doing alright and if the Harris family was treating me poorly. She promised she'd come get me once Rachel wasn't mad anymore.

I chewed on a cold, hard piece of bread and answered steadily, "I'm fine. Don't worry."

Ever since then, I never called her "Mom" again, but she never seemed to notice anything was off.

Maybe I sounded too calm, and she really believed everything was okay. After that, her calls came less and less.

I didn't mind. Honestly, I preferred it that way—I had no desire to keep acting for her.

There was still a month before senior year started, and I needed to find work to support myself.

After all the hard knocks from last time, I didn't waste any time—I went straight to the construction site. Back then, the only person willing to hire me had been the foreman here. I pestered him for three days before he gave me two options, which were to carry bricks or tie rebar. Both were heavy jobs usually done by men.

Last time, I chose to haul bricks because it didn't require any skill. But I'd been too naïve. I couldn't even budge a wheelbarrow. I just ended up being a burden on the site.

This time, I chose to tie rebar instead. It took me half a day to pick up the basics.

But in just that half day, every finger and the center of both palms were rubbed raw, with blood blisters everywhere.

I didn't cry out. When work wrapped up that evening, I found a quiet corner, borrowed a needle, and popped every blister myself.

It hurt. It really hurt. But this was nothing compared to getting my kidney ripped out after the car crash. Still, my tears slipped out before I could stop them.

I didn't know when the foreman had walked over or how long he had been standing beside me. He was holding a hundred-dollar bill, then silently took out another hundred from his pocket.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him and hurried to swallow my tears. I stood up and said, "I'll work hard. Please don't send me away."

He glanced at the stack of books behind me and didn't say much. Then, he said, "Come on. I'll get you a dorm."

And just like that, I finally had a place to stay.

After three days of proving myself, the foreman made me a regular on the crew. This job paid daily with 200 dollars a day.

I was genuinely grateful. I was always the first to show up and never slacked off.

The workers were kind to me too. Some called me by my name, but most of them simply called me "kiddo." The nickname felt warm. I liked it.

One day, several luxury cars pulled into the site.

The foreman said the new shareholder of the real estate company was coming to check the progress. Word was, he was young and handsome, so a bunch of the female workers went over to sneak a peek.

I just smiled and kept tying rebar quietly with the guys.

About ten minutes later, the whole place suddenly went quiet as the new major shareholder walked over to our section.

I glanced up and caught sight of a familiar face. I ducked my head right away, terrified he might see me. But I still caught sight of his polished dress shoes coming closer and closer until they stopped barely two feet from me.

I could feel him staring, but I kept working like nothing happened. With the hardhat on and dirt all over my face, as long as I didn't slip up, there was no way he'd recognize me.

"Mr. Carter, right this way," someone called out.

The shoes paused in front of me for a second, then turned and walked away.

I finally let out a long breath. Only when he was far enough away did I dare lift my head. He was Daniel Carter—my brother.

Back then, I'd been the little sister he adored the most. But after I crawled back to the Carter family like a half-dead stray, the way he looked at me changed.

All the warmth and affection were gone. What replaced them was disgust, indifference, and a kind of cold dismissal.

Maybe because we used to be so close, his sudden change felt like a slap I never quite recovered from. I couldn't face him anymore, so I began distancing myself first, and he became more of a stranger with each passing day.

On his birthday, I worked myself to the bone just to buy him a gift with my own hard-earned money. But he tossed it straight into the trash without even blinking.

When I finally found someone who truly loved me, he said, "Rachel likes him. Don't fight her for him. You owe her."

Every time I tried to stand on my own, tried to run away from the Carter family, I searched for jobs—but every attempt was snuffed out before it even started.

When I wanted to know the reason, one of them finally admitted that they didn't dare offend Daniel. And I shouldn't make things hard for them.