Chapter 4 Eight Hours to Escape

His eyes widened, and he pointed at me, unable to get a word out.

My mother panicked beside him, her sheet mask slipping off. "That's enough! Stop arguing. Your brother has it hard—"

"Hard? He gets 300 thousand a month, lives in a luxury apartment, drives sports cars, and he has it hard?"

My mother's lips trembled, her gaze starting to dart away.

Just then, my father walked out of the bedroom, his face cold as he took in the scene in the living room. "What are you all yelling about in the middle of the night?"

"Dad!" Colin immediately found his backing. "Look at her—"

"Enough." My father raised a hand to cut him off, then looked at me. "I told them to take the money. You have a problem with that?"

"I do."

"Keep it to yourself." His tone was flat. "What does a girl need with so much education? Pack your things tomorrow and go back to the countryside to your grandmother's place. Stay there. Don't go to school anymore."

I stared at him. The scab at the corner of my lips split again, the taste of blood spreading in my mouth. "You go to work in a Bentley, with a chauffeur opening the door for you, and you tell people back in the village you're just a security guard at a factory.

"You live in a luxury apartment in the city, but make me stay in that rundown place, wearing other people's cast-offs. You tell everyone our family is too poor to support my education. Lincoln James… Don't you ever have nightmares at night?"

My father's expression turned grim. That cold, superior look on his face cracked, and something furious surged up beneath it. "Say that again."

"A black Bentley. Plate number ending in 38. It comes to pick you up downstairs at 7.40 every morning. The chauffeur opens the door for you. I even took photos. Want to see them?"

"You—" My father's face flushed a dark purple, his hand lifting.

Colin stood there, stunned.

My mother's mouth hung open, no words coming out.

"You took pictures of your father?" My father's finger trembled as he pointed at me. "How dare you stalk me? Roxanna, you—"

"What about me?" I stood in the middle of the living room, looking straight at him. "What are you afraid of? Afraid people will find out you're rich but won't spend a cent on me? Afraid they'll find out your daughter wears broken shoes while your son drives sports cars? You're afraid of many things. But whether I survive or not has never been one of them."

His hand came down. A sharp crack rang out. My head snapped to the side, and half my face went numb. I staggered backward, my shoulder hitting the shoe cabinet.

Stars exploded in my vision, but I did not fall. I braced myself against the cabinet and forced myself upright. I looked at him, blood dripping from the corner of my mouth onto the collar of my school uniform.

My mother gasped, covering her mouth. Colin took a step back.

My father was breathing heavily. His hand was still raised, and his eyes were bloodshot. "Get back to your room. You're leaving tomorrow morning."

I stared at him for two seconds, wiped the blood from my mouth, and let out a cold laugh. I turned around, pushed open my bedroom door, walked inside, and shut it behind me.

Through the door, I heard my father lower his voice. "How did she find out?"

My mother replied, "I don't know. I didn't tell her…"

Colin cut in, "Mom, she just said I get 300 thousand a month—"

"Shut up!" my father snapped.

There was a brief silence. Then his voice came again, steady in a way that was almost frightening. "Richard will come pick her up at six tomorrow morning. Take her straight to the countryside. Don't let her anywhere near a phone."

I leaned against the door, listening to their hushed voices outside.

I lifted my head and reached into the inner pocket of my backpack. I pulled out a torn piece of the acceptance letter. Only half of the school's abbreviated name remained.

My fingers traced the rough, jagged edges of the paper. Blood was still seeping from my lip. I licked it. Salty.

Eight hours.

In eight hours, they would send me to the countryside and lock me in my grandmother's house. And I might never get out again.

I had to run.

I refused to become Colin's cash cow. I had to leave this place.