Chapter 2
But that wasn't the case.
My grades were nothing more than a way to get under Lilith's skin.
I retreated into the shadows behind the couch.
I stared at the tiny shards of glass catching the light in the cracks of the carpet.
My eyes burned.
The breath I'd been holding in for so long suddenly escaped me.
My phone buzzed.
The screen lit up.
It was a screenshot of my grades from my homeroom teacher, Nathan Preston.
My total score was 1550, ranking top 1%.
My thumb hovered over the screen for a couple of seconds.
I locked the screen.
The screen went dark.
The chatter in the living room kept going.
They were deep into planning day four of the Bristov Island trip.
I didn't look at anyone else.
I retreated into the cramped storage room and closed the chipped wooden door.
The lock clicked shut.
I couldn't be bothered to get involved in all that commotion.
A black van was parked at the entrance of the alley.
Phillip stuffed the pink suitcase into the trunk.
He opened the passenger door and placed a hand on the edge of the roof.
"Watch your head," Phillip said gently.
Lilith kept her head down and got into the car.
Phillip leaned over and buckled her seatbelt for her.
My parents squeezed into the back seat with their travel bags.
I leaned against the chipped security door.
The metal frame pressed a chill into my back.
The car doors slammed shut one after another.
All the windows slid up, sealing the car from the outside.
The wheels splashed through the puddles at the alley entrance, and the car sped away down the street.
I went back inside.
The air was stifling and hazy with heat.
I walked to the center of the living room.
The chandelier above me flickered twice.
The light went out.
A distant rumble of thunder rolled outside.
Heavy rain began to pound against the windows.
The room was swallowed by darkness.
The electricity bill reminder from yesterday was still stuck to the door.
My dad had sent every dollar we had at home to Lilith Riley's account that morning.
I dialed my mom's number.
The phone rang for ages before she finally picked up.
I could hear the airport's bilingual announcements in the background.
"What is it now?" she snapped.
She spoke quickly, her voice tangled with the noise of hurried footsteps in the background.
"Mom, the power's out at home," I said.
There was a brief silence on the other end.
She yelled, "If the power's out, pay the bill.
"You're grown up now. Do you need to call me for something this small?
"Lilith didn't sleep well last night, and she's got a headache. Handle it yourself."
She hung up.
The phone's soft glow lingered in the dim living room for a moment.
Then it faded out on its own.
By the afternoon, I was burning up.
Even my breath felt hot.
I rummaged through the drawers in the storage room.
All I found were a few empty packs of cold meds.
Rainwater pooled over the mossy steps in the yard.
I grabbed a beat-up black umbrella and walked into the rain.
The pharmacy was one mile away.
Rain streamed down the sides of my umbrella, soaking my pant legs.
My old sneakers splashed through puddles.
The dampness seeped through the fabric and into my socks, making each step heavier.
I pushed open the glass door of the drugstore.
A blast of cold air smacked me in the face.
A shiver ran down my spine.
I headed to the far end of the aisle and grabbed a box of fever medicine.
I pulled out my phone to pay.
"That'll be nine dollars," the cashier said.
After the payment went through, the screen jumped back to my social feed.
I saw Phillip had an update.
I opened it.
He'd posted something ten minutes ago.
It was a bright, sunny emoji.
Underneath was a group photo in the business lounge at the train station.
Lilith was curled up in an armchair, holding a cup of hot cocoa.
Phillip leaned in closer to her.
He watched her intently, smiling gently at her.
Outside those massive floor-to-ceiling windows, a train was waiting to head down south to the seaside city.
Everyone in the picture was all smiles.
I let the screen go dark.
I stuffed the medicine into my pocket and stepped back into the rain.
By the time I got back to the house, it was pitch black outside.
There wasn't any light inside.
I made my way to the couch by memory and sat down.
The water stains on the edge of the coffee table were still there.
The base of the glass Lilith broke last night was still left behind.
I picked up the jagged shard of glass.
With a flick of my wrist, I tossed it into the trash.
Late at night, I slumped into the corner of the couch and ripped open the box of meds.
I popped out a fever tablet, didn't bother to get any water, and swallowed it.
The rough tablet scraped against my inflamed throat, making it sting.
I curled up on the couch.
I dragged an old, worn-out coat over myself, trying to chase away the chill.
My phone buzzed.
The screen lit up, its glare almost blinding me.
It was a text from my dad.
I stared at the words on the screen.
Dad: [All the money at home went to Lilith's elite training camp in Pekoy City and her coastal field trip. You're on your own for tuition. Stop bothering us with your issues.]
The air conditioning backstage was cranked up to the max.
The red velvet curtains pooled on the floor.
I stood next to a pile of discarded props.
The department director, Jack Norton, gripped the program sheet, a worried frown on his face.