Chapter 4

The chaotic chatter drilled into my ears, distant and muffled.

I forced my eyes open.

Using the ground for support, I staggered shakily to my feet and said, "I'm fine.

"I am fine," I croaked. "I was just taking a walk. I can go back by myself."

Back when I was living with Uncle Jason, I went days on end without breakfast before heading to kindergarten.

After skipping breakfast for so many days, I ended up fainting in class from low blood sugar.

The school nurse called my uncle.

When he dragged me home, he exploded in a violent rage. "Are you just dying for everyone to think I am abusing you?

"Your mom is dead, and your dad doesn't want you. I was kind enough to take you in, and you are nothing but an ungrateful brat!"

That was how I got packed off to Aunt Mary's place.

But I really didn't mean to faint.

I saw a man in a business suit pull out his cell phone, his brow furrowed in anger. "I am calling James right now."

I frantically tried to wave him off, but the call had already connected.

The man put it on speakerphone and aggressively explained the situation.

Over the line, I heard my brother's icy, impatient, and heavily slurred voice. "I don't care about her. If she is dying, let her die."

As dawn broke, sunlight spilled over me.

Even with the sunlight warming my skin, I just felt colder inside.

I lowered my head, clutching the hem of my clothes tightly. I didn't know what to do anymore.

My legs felt weak beneath me, barely holding me up.

The trees and the grown-ups around me all blurred and swayed before my eyes.

But I gritted my teeth and forced myself to stay upright, refusing to let myself collapse again.

Furious, the businessman yelled into the phone. "This kid looks like she is on death's door.

"Look, I don't like poking my nose into other people's business, but this courtyard is public property.

"If you want to abandon a child, at least get her off the complex grounds!"

It dawned on me that even this patch of grass wasn't a place I belonged.

My mind was buzzing, and my ears felt like they were on fire.

James finally showed up.

Seeing him arrive looking murderous, the adults hurriedly dispersed, eager to avoid a confrontation and get to work.

I kept my head down, not daring to look up.

In my blurred line of sight, I saw the polished tips of his expensive shoes stop right in front of my bare toes.

Trembling with absolute terror, I tilted my head up just a fraction. I saw a lit cigarette pinched tightly between his fingers.

The smoke was suffocating. The heavy stench of whiskey on his clothes was much worse now.

It reminded me of how Uncle Jason used to get when he drank too much.

He'd stink of booze, smoking a cigarette with that nasty smell hanging around him.

Then he'd press the burning tip right onto my arm.

I watched, frozen in horror, as James raised his hand. He reached the burning cigarette toward me, right toward my head.

I heard his voice, dripping with anger and hate. "Playing dumb with your head down? Are you satisfied now that everyone knows I kicked you out?"

Uncle Jason's vicious voice echoed in my ears again, "Are you just dying for everyone to think I abused you?"

All those relentless voices started to blend together with James's now.

James reaching his cigarette toward my hand looked exactly like Uncle Jason's arm.

His hand pressed down on my forehead.

I felt that agonizing pain all over again.

The searing agony of a lit cigarette being stubbed out on my skin.

Shivering, I backed away in sheer terror, my voice trembling with a primal instinct to beg for mercy. "I... I am sorry. I will never do it again."

I didn't even know what I'd done wrong.

I didn't mean to faint, and I never asked those adults to come.

My heel bumped into the seat, and before I knew it, I fell back onto it, totally out of control.

The pain I'd felt on my forehead had faded away.

It dawned on me. I hadn't actually been burned.

The cigarette was still burning in James's hand, untouched.

All that remained on my forehead were huge, cold beads of sweat rolling down.

I lifted my head.

James's face was just as icy as I expected.

But for a split second, there was a brief flash of surprise in his eyes.

I had no idea what I could possibly say to calm him down, not even a little.

I just kept going, lost in the haze, so dizzy and numb I could barely think straight.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

For a long moment, the angry yelling and scolding I expected didn't come.

After a long moment, James stumbled a bit and sat down next to me.

I stole a cautious glance at him and saw his eyes were bloodshot.

I couldn't tell if it was the booze or just lack of sleep.

Or maybe, it was something else entirely.

My hands rested uneasily in my lap, fingers twisting together in anxiety.

I don't know how much time passed before I heard his agonized, murmuring voice. "She is dead. She is dead..."

James was really drunk.

The person he was talking about must have been the gorgeous older girl in the photo.

I didn't dare make a sound.

All I could hear was his voice, dazed and distant, like he was talking to himself. "She told me about the most unbearable, most hopeless parts of her past.

"Her stepdad abused her, and her own mom saw it happen but just pretended not to see.

"She was scared anyone would ever find out.

"But then she said, she said...

"She felt I was different. That I wasn't just some random guy."

His hand at his side was shaking.

He suddenly turned to me, eyes bloodshot, fixing me with a glare that could burn a hole right through me. "And then that woman used that past to threaten her, forcing her to cut ties with me.

"That woman told her she heard it all from me.

"That woman said her son was a total goody-two-shoes who never hid anything from her."

I felt like I already knew the answer.

But trembling all over, terrified, I still asked him. "Who... who is that woman?"