Chapter 2

The next morning, I discovered that my asthma inhaler was missing. After searching my backpack twice, I finally found it in the trash can. Its plastic casing was cracked from being crushed under someone's foot.

Daniel was sitting at the dining table, drinking a glass of milk, and the pair of black athletic gloves from the day before lay beneath his foot.

I picked up the broken inhaler and looked straight at him.

"Did you throw my medicine away?"

He continued sipping his milk, wearing an innocent expression. "What medicine? I've never seen that before."

Claire immediately stepped in front of him protectively.

"Why are you interrogating him first thing in the morning? Danny had nightmares last night and could barely sleep. When would he have had time to mess with your things?"

I pointed at the gloves beneath Daniel's foot. A layer of white powder had stained the fabric around the silver-gray lightning bolts.

Daniel's expression shifted, and Dad noticed it, too.

The dining room fell silent.

"Danny." Dad's voice turned stern. "Did you break Nate's inhaler?"

Daniel's jaw tightened as he blinked back tears, fighting to keep them from falling.

"I didn't know it was medicine. I just noticed Nate hiding it every day, so I thought it must be something valuable."

He paused before adding in a choked voice, "After my dad died, everyone treated me like I was a burden. Now even my own stepbrother hates me…"

He lowered his head, trying to hide his tears. Dad's anger vanished almost instantly. He crouched beside Daniel and pulled him into a hug.

"No one's calling you a burden," he reassured him. "As long as I'm here, no one's going to bully you."

I tightened my grip on the broken inhaler.

"Then, what about my medicine?"

Dad looked up at me, and his tone softened. "I'll get you a new one later. Danny didn't mean any harm. He's still adjusting to this family, and he's having a hard time right now. Don't be so hard on him."

"He knew it was mine," I shot back.

"Nate," Dad interrupted, a trace of exhaustion crossing his face. "His biological father died saving my life. He stepped in front of a car to protect me. I owe that man everything."

He paused before asking, "Can't you do this one thing for me?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

"So, he gets to take my life to repay that debt?"

Dad froze, and even Daniel stopped crying for a moment.

A few seconds later, Dad frowned. "Don't be ridiculous. We'll just get you another inhaler. Is it really as serious as you're making it out to be?"

My chest suddenly felt tight.

I didn't bother explaining any further. I slung my backpack over my shoulders and walked out.

…

At noon, my homeroom teacher, Eleanor Lawson, called me into her office. A competition registration form lay on her desk.

"First place in the state math competition comes with an $8,000 prize," she explained. "The winner also gets a spot in Westbrook High School's honors program, with tuition, room, and board fully covered."

My eyes lingered on the words "room and board fully covered".

"Do I need a parent to go with me?"

"No."

"If I win, can I go straight to the city and enroll?"

She looked surprised by the question. "Yes, you can. But the state capital is a long way from home. Do you really think your dad will let you go?"

I picked up a pen and signed my name on the registration form.

"He will."

After school, I didn't bother waiting at the school gates. Instead, I headed straight to the pharmacy to buy a new inhaler.

It cost 120 dollars.

At the checkout counter, I stood there for a long time, counting my money over and over before finally handing it to the cashier.

She glanced at me impatiently. "Are you going to buy it or not?"

I nodded.

"Yes."

I had to stay alive.

I couldn't afford to die before I got out of there.

…

On my way home, Dad's electric scooter pulled up alongside me, with Daniel sitting on the back, laughing loudly. Dad had already ridden about fifty feet past me before he seemed to notice I was there.

He turned his head and called out, "Nate, want to squeeze in?"

There was only room for one passenger, and Daniel immediately tightened his arms around Dad's waist, making no attempt to move over.

I held up my bus pass. "No, thanks."

Dad hesitated for a moment before nodding. "All right. Be careful on your way home."

Then, the scooter sped off, disappearing around the corner.

As I watched them go, I silently did the math. I was still more than 7,000 dollars short.

Once I won the prize money, I could finally leave.