Chapter 2

My body had started changing, and I was at the age where I needed a bra.

Whenever men passed me on the street, the way some of them looked at me sometimes made me feel ashamed and exposed.

The neighbors kept mentioning it, saying things like, "Looks like she's growing up."

Rosalie would always respond with a snide remark, "Don't act like I'm her mom. Her mom is busy taking care of that little one."

To avoid the eyes that seemed to linger on me, I always wore layers of heavy clothes even in the middle of summer.

My teacher had finally had enough and called Rosalie.

That day, Rosalie came home furious and started complaining to the neighbor about me.

Then the neighbor pulled out a pile of old clothes.

Rosalie dug through them and pulled out a few worn-out bras before tossing them at me.

I stared at the clothes and stuffed them into my closet without a word.

It was better than nothing.

Puberty seemed to hit me harder than it did most girls.

Rosalie was on a video call with my mom in the next room.

When I went into her room to mop the floor, I happened to see my mom showing her the new clothes she had bought for my younger sister.

There were piles and piles of them. Pink dresses, cargo pants, and lace-trimmed polka-dot blouses.

As soon as she noticed me, she hurriedly moved the clothes out of sight behind her.

Keeping my gaze down, I slipped out and gently shut the door.

*****

Lucas kept staring at me in a way that made my skin crawl.

"Hey, what's this?" he said, snapping the strap of my tank top with his finger.

Pain shot through me, and tears sprang into my eyes. I was terrified of him, so I did everything I could to stay out of his way.

One day, while I was in the shower, Lucas suddenly called out from outside, sounding surprised, "What the heck is that?"

I remembered that I had left my clothes outside. My heart jumped, and in my panic, I slipped.

A sharp pain shot through my body.

"Get out," I shouted before I could stop myself.

Lucas jumped, then shouted back, "Why are you so quiet? How was I supposed to know you were in there?"

Rosalie reacted as if I had committed some terrible offense. "Have you forgotten whose house you're living in?"

She burst in and said to Lucas, "Go outside."

Lucas grumbled and wandered off.

Rosalie yanked the bathroom door open, pointed right at me, and snapped, "Go on, keep showering. Let me show you who runs this house."

I desperately covered myself and fought back tears.

Rosalie left the door wide open and stormed out.

As she walked off, she grumbled, "Don't you dare close that door. My son doesn't need you telling him what to do, and it's not like anyone wants to look at you anyway."

I no longer felt like taking a shower. I quickly rinsed the soap away, then hurriedly got dressed, terrified that someone might come back.

The open doorway looked dark and endless, like the mouth of some huge beast.

Thankfully, everyone had heard the commotion, so no one came over.

Still, this whole thing left me traumatized.

From then on, whenever I heard footsteps outside my door, I would become so anxious that my stomach would cramp.

I couldn't sleep at all, so I kept a razor blade under my pillow, scared out of my mind that someone might barge in.

*****

I curled up under the blankets. A dull ache spread through my lower abdomen.

As I got up to turn off the light, I saw a patch of blood on the sheets.

My heart began pounding.

I must have been seriously sick.

There was blood on the bed, and Rosalie was going to yell at me again.

For a second, I wanted to jump out the window. It wasn't because I was sick, but because I was terrified of what would happen when they saw the stained sheets.

However, I wasn't ready to die yet, so I dragged the sheet into the bathroom and washed it, careful not to make a sound.

When I realized I hadn't woken anyone, I breathed a sigh of relief and hurried back to my room.

I searched my symptoms on my phone and learned that what was happening was a normal part of growing up.

A mix of relief and confusion washed over me.

I wasn't dying after all.

However, on the day I got my first period, there was no one there to celebrate that I had grown up. I sat alone in the bathroom, quietly crying as I washed the blood from my sheets.

I wanted to text my mom, but she'd already deleted me from her contacts, all because I asked her, "Mom, do I have a little sister now?"

*****

I wandered down to the beach for a walk. Then I turned my head and saw something I never expected.

My parents were there, taking photos with the little sister I had never met.

She was soft-skinned and pretty, completely unlike me, who always felt dirty and unattractive.

While the photographer was showing her how to pose, she giggled and playfully swatted his hand away.

My mom quickly apologized, "Sorry, she's our only child, so we've spoiled her a little."

One of our old neighbors happened to be standing nearby. She laughed and said, "Your only child? Then where's the older one?

"Honestly, I don't understand you two. Your oldest daughter hasn't seen you once in all these years, and now you're doting on the younger one. Why didn't you send this one away?"

My mom frowned. "I lived with relatives when I was little, too. I know how awful it is to be a guest in someone else's home. Why should Lily have to go through that?"

So, Lily was my sister's name.

It felt like I'd been punched in the gut.

It turned out my mom knew exactly what it was like to grow up in someone else's home, but she still sent me away.

Suddenly, my dad's eyes went wide. "Scarlett, what are you doing here?"

My mom's face went pale as she turned to look at me.

I forced a smile and asked, "Mom, is this my little sister?"