Chapter 2
My hand trembled, and the milk carton crashed to the floor, and milk spilled all over the place.
"I didn't," I said.
I tried to explain, but my voice was dry.
"I was just hungry," I mumbled.
Emily walked over, picked up the milk carton from the floor, and let out a sigh.
"Sara, I know you've had a tough time over there, but now that you're home, you can't keep doing things the way you used to," she said.
"If you want something, ask Mom and Dad. Why take things without asking?" she added.
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough for Linda, Richard, and Henry, who had stepped out of their rooms, to hear every word.
Linda hurried over, and the moment she saw the mess on the floor, her face fell.
"Sara, what on earth are you doing?" she demanded.
"I..." I stammered.
"Still making excuses?" Linda said, her finger trembling as she pointed at me, her entire body quivering with anger. "Do you lack anything at home, food or drink? Sneaking around the kitchen at midnight, stealing? What kind of upbringing is that?"
Upbringing? Really?
Back in that place, where I got beaten every day and barely had enough scraps to eat, surviving was the only thing I ever learned.
"I didn't steal anything," I repeated, my voice quiet but firm.
"Still talking back?" Linda snapped.
She raised her hand to hit me, but before she could, Richard stepped in and stopped her.
"Come on, no need to get so worked up over something so small," he said.
But when he looked at me, all I saw in his eyes was disappointment.
"Emily, take Sara back to your room and let her get some sleep," Richard said.
"Dad, you can't let this slide," Henry said, looking disgusted. "If she keeps taking things, who knows what she'll do next?"
Emily gently took my hand and said, "Don't blame Sara, Henry. I'm sure she didn't mean it. Sara, let's go back to my room. I've got some cookies. Do you want some? I'll split them with you."
She was like a kind and forgiving saint, which only made me feel more pathetic.
I yanked my hand away from hers.
Back in that cramped maid's room, I lay awake all night.
The next morning, I woke up late.
When I came downstairs, the four of them were all gathered around the table, laughing and chatting over breakfast as if nothing had happened.
The spot where I sat was left empty.
Linda glanced at me and said coldly, "There are some leftovers in the kitchen. Go heat them up yourself."
I slipped into the kitchen and found half a loaf of bread.
I grabbed the bread and was about to take a bite when Emily came in.
Emily said softly, "Sara, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said last night."
She passed me some food.
"I saved you a sandwich and some milk. Here, eat while it's still fresh," she said.
I looked at her, and suddenly, the whole thing felt absurd.
If she was sorry, why didn't she say something for me when Linda and Richard were there?
I pushed her hand away.
"Don't bother," I said.
"Sara, are you still mad at me?" she said. Her eyes turned red, and she looked like she was about to cry.
Just then, Linda walked in.
She saw the food in Emily's hand and my cold expression, and her anger flared up instantly.
"Sara, Emily went out of her way to bring you something to eat, and this is the attitude you give her?" Linda snapped.
"So, you think we've been unfair to you? Who do you think you are? You're nothing but a brat who grew up like a stray for six years out in the sticks. You should count yourself lucky we let you back in," she added.
Her words stabbed right into my heart.
I clenched my fists.
"Yeah, I'm a brat. And I owe it all to you," I shot back.
Linda shouted, "You!"
She jabbed a finger at the door, shaking with fury.
"Get out! I don't ever want to see you again," Linda yelled.
Without another word, I turned and walked out.
Emily called out after me, her voice full of worry.
"Mom, don't kick Sara out. Where's she supposed to go?" Emily cried out.
Richard let out a long sigh.
"Let her calm down for a bit," he said.
No one came after me.
I wandered through the chilly fall breeze, dressed in nothing but some thin clothes, not knowing where I was going.
It turned out that bringing me back was their way of easing their own guilt.
This family never had a place for me.
Where did I go from here?
That trafficker's twisted, cruel face flashed through my mind.
Maybe hell was where I belonged all along.