Chapter 3

Once the door closed, the empty house fell dead silent.

The pain in my spine mingled with the relentless cramping in my stomach. Every breath I took tasted of copper.

After I'd been lying there for hours, the pain in my stomach suddenly intensified.

A warm wave of liquid surged up my throat, bursting past my lips.

Fresh, dark blood instantly stained the front of my favorite white dress and splashed across the tile floor.

Agony racked my body with violent convulsions. I curled tightly into a ball.

I reached out my trembling hand, clawing helplessly at the air.

As the dark pool spread across the floor, all I could think about was staying alive.

I really didn't want to die.

Gritting my teeth, I dragged myself inch by inch toward the landline phone in the corner of the living room.

Those few short yards took me ten whole minutes.

I dragged a horrific, smeared trail of red across the tiles behind me.

A memory from when I was seven flashed across my mind.

That year, I was hit by a car and broke my leg.

Mom and Dad had rushed to the hospital so frantically they hadn't even put their shoes on properly.

Mom had held me, crying her eyes out, while Dad begged the doctors with bloodshot eyes to save my life.

I thought that even if they hated me now, even if they favored Chloe,

if they knew I was really dying, if they saw how much blood I was losing,

they would run back to save me, just like they used to.

With trembling fingers, I struggled to punch in Dad's cell number.

It rang for a painfully long time before he finally answered.

The roar of a roller coaster whooshing past came through the speaker, accompanied by Chloe's joyful squeals.

"Hello? What do you want now?!" Dad snapped, his voice oozing frustration.

Gasping for breath, I wept weakly into the receiver.

"Dad, it hurts so bad."

"I'm bleeding so much. My stomach hurts. Please, come home and save me."

There was a brief second of silence on the other end.

Then, Mom's cold scoff rang out.

"I told you she'd pull something! Listen to that, playing dead again!"

"She just can't stand seeing our family having a good time!"

Dad hesitated. "What if it's real?"

Mom sneered, "Real? She's just stirring up drama because we took Chloe out today and left her behind."

Dad let out a breath.

Then came a cold, mocking laugh.

"Lauren, you really stoop to every disgusting trick in the book just to compete with your sister."

"You think saying you're bleeding is going to make us run back? Do you take me for a three-year-old?!"

I clutched the phone cord in despair, hot tears spilling over and hitting the floor.

"I'm not faking. It hurts so much. Please..."

In the background, Chloe yelled, "Daddy, I want that giant strawberry ice cream!"

Dad's tone turned incredibly soft and sweet in an instant. "Okay, sweetie, Daddy's getting it for you right now."

When he turned back to the phone, his impatience had grown ten times worse.

"Did you hear that? Your sister is having a great time."

"If you really want to drop dead, go do it somewhere far away! Don't call us and ruin our day!"

I opened my mouth, but another surge of warm blood flooded my throat.

I spat a heavy mouthful of blood directly over the phone, completely losing the ability to speak.

Dad's angry roar erupted from the receiver.

"I'm warning you! If you dare call back, I'll break your legs when I get home!"

Then, a harsh click followed by a flat, continuous dial tone.

He hung up on me.