Chapter 3

When the maid finally hauled me out of the basement, my limbs felt completely numb.

Mom, Dad, and Stella had gone to the amusement park.

The maid shoved her phone into my face, smugly showing me a video clip.

On the screen, Dad wrapped his arms around Mom and Stella, all three smiling radiantly beneath the bright sun. They looked so whole, so blissfully happy—they had completely forgotten my existence.

The maid sneered down at me.

"Mrs. Hayes made it very clear: our family has no room for a freak like you."

"You nearly killed your own mother while still in the womb. God knows what kind of menace you'd become once you grow up."

I didn't understand how I was a menace.

Everyone called me a stray, an abomination, a filthy trash-picker.

I lacked the courage to argue. I quietly picked up the cold, stale crust from the dog bowl and forced it down my throat.

I crept back into the basement. That night, a slap woke me, my cheek stinging.

Mom stood over me, clutching a snapped silver Saint Christopher medal, shrieking hysterically.

"Riley, you just can't stand seeing your sister well, can you?!"

"I had this Saint Christopher medal blessed specifically to protect her life! You cut the cord because you want my baby dead!"

"You sick, evil parasite! If anything happens to my daughter, I will make you pay with your life!"

I shook my head desperately. I never touched Stella's Saint Christopher medal.

I never wanted to harm my little sister; I truly prayed she would grow up healthy and happy.

"Mom, it wasn't me... I swear I didn't..."

Mom refused to hear a word.

She was utterly convinced I was trying to murder her child.

Mom tied my hands against the wall, whipping my bare back with a thin belt. Dad rushed in, wrapping his arms around her to hold her back.

"Chloe, calm down! Don't overexert yourself. I'll check the security cameras right now."

"Riley wouldn't have the guts to do this. She doesn't even know what Stella's Saint Christopher medal looks like."

"The maid saw her do it with her own eyes, and you're still defending her?!" Mom shrieked, her voice venomous. "Mark, tell me right now—is it going to be me and Stella, or this monster?!"

The maid stood quietly off to the side, her eyes darting guiltily.

I vaguely realized it was the maid who had cut the cord and framed me for it.

Suddenly, Stella started coughing violently, spitting up a mouthful of blood.

Mom's knees buckled, and she collapsed in a dead faint.

Dad caught Mom, then looked at me. His eyes had gone cold. "Riley, you have disappointed me for the last time."

Stella's renal failure had worsened drastically; she was on the brink of death.

By the time Dad got us to the hospital, Mom was still too shaken to stand. He fetched a wheelchair and pushed her to Stella's room.

Stella was Mom's entire world. If the baby died, Mom wouldn't survive the grief either.

Mom looked up at me, begging through tears, "Riley... please, have some mercy on your sister! Just give Stella your kidney, won't you?"

"I just want my baby to live! If Stella dies, I'm dying with her!"

Mom clutched Dad's sleeve. "Mark, please. I just need my little girl to live." Dad said the hospital would never clear me to be a donor, but he had found a private clinic willing to do the surgery without an independent assessment.

Mom only cared about Stella.

My death, to them, was nothing more than a convenient solution.