The paper was battered and stained with blood—my blood, from when I was pushed out of the car and slammed against the rocks. I trembled as I held out the last piece of proof, hoping beyond hope that this would finally make them see the truth.
Mom hesitated as she took the report. A flicker of doubt crossed her face.
Erica’s expression faltered. Panic flashed in her eyes, but she quickly masked it with worry. “Mom, watch it. There’s been news about the new spreading virus. That paper’s dirty, are you sure you want to touch it? I just don’t want you to get sick.”
Mom’s face darkened, but she still unfolded the report. Her brows furrowed deeper with every line she read. Dad and Everett leaned in to see, their curiosity overtaking their judgment.
Mom’s eyes reddened as she reached the end. For a moment, the air seemed to still.
My dry, aching eyes stung with the return of tears.
Mom had always said she loved obedient, well-behaved daughters. I had been obedient. I had been well-behaved. If they could give Erica, an adopted daughter, their unconditional love, then surely they could find it in their hearts to love me, their biological child.
They would take me to the best doctors to treat my illness. They would buy me warm clothes, cook me delicious meals and decorate a cozy room for me.
We would spend one last New Year’s together as a family. They would wish me a Happy New Year and they would say, “Happy Birthday,” to me.
I would fight this cancer with everything I had left, trying to hang on for just a little longer.
If they couldn’t bear to part with Erica, I would try to accept her. If she liked Lucient, I’ll step aside---I’ll give him willingly. As long as I still had my parents and my brother that was enough for me. I dreamed of going to the amusement park with my mom and dad and walking back to school with my brother, proudly telling everyone I wasn’t some unwanted child with no family.
I wanted to fall into my mom’s arms and act like Erica, the way she would cling to her. Maybe Mom would pinch my cheeks and tell me how pretty and adorable I was, just like she did for Erica.
“It’s okay, Mom. I don't---”
I couldn't stop myself from reaching out, one step at a time, towards her. But before I could hug her, a slap landed on my cheek.
I stopped in my tracks. My ears rang. My head was spinning. The world seemed to move away in slow motion.