PART 2
The ringtone cut through the kitchen before Dad could reach me again.
I backed into the wall, one hand gripping the envelope, the other reaching for my phone.
For one terrifying second, I saw Evan’s face clearly.
He was smiling.
Not big.
Not obvious.
Just enough.
Dad stood in front of me, his face twisted with rage.
“You selfish little parasite.”
I pressed one hand against the wall, trying to steady myself, but treatment had turned my muscles into wet paper. My chest burned. My ears rang. I tried to speak, but only a broken rasp came out.
“Dad,” Evan said lazily, “careful. We still need her to authorize it.”
That sentence saved me.
Because Dad stepped back just enough for me to breathe again.
I slid down toward the floor, coughing, one palm pressed to the side of my head. My mother rushed over, but she did not check if I was hurt.
She grabbed my bag.
I held it tighter.
Her mask finally fell.
“Give it to me, Claire.”
I looked up at her.
“You planned this.”
Her mouth twitched.
Evan stepped closer.
“No one planned anything. You just forced us.”
read more in next page
