The sight of that rehearsed, doe-eyed look made bile rise in my throat. I snatched the bowl of tapioca pudding and upended it over her head, then smashed the bowl on the floor.

She yelped and hopped around as the warm liquid ran down her scalp, screaming that I was insane. My mother joined in, calling me a lunatic, shooting me a look of pure disgust before dragging Agatha to the bathroom to clean up.

Frederick grabbed my arm and tried to hold me still. "Calm down. She didn't know you were allergic. You're fine now, so just let it go."

I shoved him off and called him exactly what he was: a fraud. An actor playing a role.

The commotion brought my father storming in. One look at the scene and he seized my arm and wrenched me aside. There was nothing in his eyes but contempt. "How dare you talk to your mother like that!"

The force of it sent my lower back crashing into the corner of the table. The old injury in my spine flared white-hot. I couldn't straighten up. I crumpled to the floor, writhing, and the three of them just stood there looking down at me like I was something foul they'd found on the bottom of a shoe.

In that moment, everything finally clicked into place. To them, I was nothing but a tool. A blood bank. The family love I'd spent my whole life reaching for had never existed.

I gathered every ounce of strength I had left and dragged myself upright. The pain was blinding, but I walked out without looking back.

Outside, snow was falling in thick, heavy flakes. I pulled out my phone and called Joseph Lawrence.

"I need a favor."

I wiped my tears dry and made my way to a run-down apartment building. Aunt Harriet had been waiting for me for a long time.

I had nothing left now. Nothing except the aunt who loved me most in this world. She was the only one who had ever truly cared for me, the only one who had ever stood up for me, from the time I was small.

She steadied me with trembling hands as I stepped through the door. "Libby, your hands are freezing. I already made you a cup of your favorite hot cocoa. Drink it while it's warm."

Aunt Harriet was the only family member who had ever been good to me. A car accident years ago had left her paralyzed from the waist down, confined to a wheelchair ever since.

She warmed my icy hands in hers while I sipped the cocoa and poured out everything that had happened.