Chapter 1

When I snapped back to reality, my mother, Karen Simmons, was already almost out the door, and I hurriedly ducked into the kitchen.

Once the sound of her footsteps had faded, I looked down at the basket in my hands. The wild greens I'd just picked on the hills had all spilled out while I was running home.

My sister, Emily Simmons, had asked me to pick them that morning for lunch.

In the past, I would have hurried back up the mountain to pick more, but today, my legs simply wouldn't move.

She wasn't the only daughter they had. I was their daughter, too.

But ever since I accepted my new mom...

Whenever she went to school, I'd cook her meals, tuck them against my chest to keep them warm, and walk five miles to deliver them.

Whenever she came home from boarding school with dirty clothes, I'd wash them.

Whenever she did her homework, I'd stand beside her and fan away the mosquitoes.

Once, I secretly glanced at one of her textbooks, and she called me bad luck and said I'd dirtied the book just by looking at it.

I didn't dare say a word because Mom had told me that if I made Emily unhappy, I could leave and go find the woman who had drowned.

For thirteen years, all of it had been a lie. They'd been deceiving me all along.

Out of spite, I chopped up my favorite pumpkin and scooped a generous spoonful of lard into the pan.

But the moment I dropped the pumpkin into the pan, the hot oil suddenly erupted, splattering across the back of my hand. The skin turned bright red in an instant, and tears filled my eyes.

I don't know where I found the courage, but I lifted the plate and smashed it hard against the floor.

"Even you people in this house pick on me."

At lunchtime, the dining table was completely bare. There was nothing on it.

Emily raised her hand and smacked me across the head. "Lucy Simmons, you're an outsider living under our roof, eating our food for free, and now you're too lazy to work. Go back to your well!"

Dad glanced at the injury on my hand, then looked at Mom hesitantly. "It's blistering. Shouldn't we put something on it?"

Mom was already furious. "Why are you being so dramatic? Doesn't medicine cost money? Have you made enough money to pay for Emily's college tuition and living expenses?

"Just soak your hand in cold water. It'll be fine. That useless girl does nothing but come here and make us pay for her."

Just like every other time, Dad fell silent.

The courage I'd found to smash that plate seemed to vanish. I wanted to ask why they'd lied to me, but I swallowed the question.

That night, the pain kept me tossing and turning, unable to sleep. I went to the well, pulled up a bucket of water, and soaked my hand in it. The cool water really did make it hurt less.

Sitting on the ground, I remembered what had happened when I was little.

The day they gave me away, it was right here that Mom and Dad forced me to face the well and call the dead woman my new mother.

They forced me to call them Aunt and Uncle instead. I refused with everything in me.

Mom grabbed my arm and struck my back again and again. "Do you want me to die?"

I didn't want Mom to die, so I had no choice but to lean against the edge of the well and force those words out.

But no matter how much Mom beat me, I still refused to call them Aunt and Uncle.

From then on, the village children would follow me around, throwing rocks and laughing as they called me the dead woman's daughter.

That day, they split my scalp open again.

I ran home crying, but they chased me all the way there.

As soon as I stepped inside, there was a cream cake sitting on the table. It was Emily's birthday and mine. It had to be the cake Mom and Dad had bought for her.

The children stared at the cake, their eyes lighting up. They wanted to eat it, but it belonged to Emily.

I desperately tried to protect the cake, but they kicked and yanked at me.

In the end, a whole group of them knocked into the table, and the cake fell to the floor and was crushed under their feet.

As soon as they realized they'd caused trouble, the children scattered.