Chapter 2

The next morning, I was dragged out into the living room.

My clothes were stiff with dried blood, my skin mottled with dark purple bruises.

Across the room, Dad sat holding Stella on his lap. She was dressed in an adorable, frilly pink dress, her cheeks glowing with health.

"Our little Stella is such a precious angel. Mommy's golden girl."

"You're going to grow up so bright and successful, aren't you, sweetie?"

As she spoke, Mom shot a cold, murderous glare my way. "Anything that tries to hurt you deserves to die."

Mom praised the baby endlessly, but her gaze toward me was laced with poison.

Dad held Mom soothingly until her ragged breathing finally stabilized.

Mom never looked at me once, nor did she care whether my wounds throbbed in pain.

The maid dropped a dog bowl onto the floor, gesturing rudely for me to get on my knees.

"Here you go, Miss Riley. There aren't any spare dishes left in the kitchen. Since you grew up scavenging in the sticks, you won't mind, will you?"

"Honestly, a wild stray should know its place. Why embarrass yourself pretending to be part of high society?"

Mom had clearly instructed the maid to treat me this way, and Dad merely watched without saying a word.

I quietly avoided Dad's gaze, curled myself into the corner, and scooped the food into my mouth with trembling fingers.

I was so, so hungry.

The woman my parents left me with in the countryside hardly ever fed me. I hadn't eaten a full meal in over a year.

I had forgotten what it felt like not to starve.

Before I was three, Mom hadn't been this cruel.

Whenever she was having a good day, she would cradle me in her lap and softly sing to me.

"Our sweet little Riley is so good. You'll take good care of Mommy when you grow up, won't you?"

"Look how pretty you are, just like your mother. You're the cutest little girl in the whole wide world."

Yet now, all she ever offered me was hatred.

Mom stepped out for a moment, leaving Stella sitting at the dining table.

The baby blinked her wide, innocent eyes and reached out her chubby little arms, wanting me to hold her.

My heart melted. Miss Anderson once taught me that older sisters should always look out for their younger siblings.

I could never hate my little sister; I wanted her to have everything bright and beautiful in the world.

Looking at the warm, rich chicken porridge left in Stella's bowl, my mouth watered and gently pushed it toward her.

"I'm not hungry, Stella. You eat."

The toddler babbled incoherently, flailing her arms, and accidentally swiped the bowl off the edge.

Scorching hot porridge poured directly over my hands, scalding my skin.

Hearing the crash, Mom rushed back in. Her face paled, and she snatched Stella into her arms, examining her frantically with tear-filled eyes. "Stella! Baby, are you hurt?!"

"It's all Mommy's fault! I never should have let you anywhere near this vile monster!"

"The moment this stray hands over her kidney, Mommy will kick her out into the street, okay?"

Mom's eyes were icy.

Once again, I was thrown back into the dark basement.

Suffocation weighed heavily on my chest, a dull, familiar ache crushing my lungs. But I seemed to be getting used to it.

Nobody cared if I was terrified.

Mom had said it herself: she didn't want me. I was a stray, a freak, and I deserved to die.

I closed my eyes and pressed down on the button of my tracker bracelet.

A moment later, Miss Anderson's voice came through the tiny speaker. "Riley? Sweetheart, are you all right?"

"Tell me where you are. Do you remember the address?"

I choked back a sob and cut her off.

"Miss Anderson... can you come get me? I want to go away."

I managed to give her our street name, but my fingers curled so tight around the bracelet I could hardly go on.

"I don't belong here."

Mom despised me. Dad didn't care.

They only brought me back to strip a kidney from my body, and after that, they just wanted me gone forever.