Revenge on the Billionaire Triplets

JULIET POV (seven years old)

I kiss my mother's smooth cheek lovingly. "I will see you when school's out, Mommy."

There's no response.

She's been like this for over two weeks now. She just sits in front of the window and stares outside.

If I didn't give her food and water, she wouldn't have been eating, either.

I hover at the front door to our apartment, worried about her.

She's so beautiful.

Just last week, I heard my best friend's mom talk over the phone about my mother's beauty.

"She's beautiful, sure, but she's a little absent, don't you think?" Those were her exact words.

I don't think she's absent.

Sometimes, my mommy just gets a little sad, and I know it's because she thinks of her own daddy and the life she used to have.

She's always telling me how she grew up in mansions like a princess, how we don't belong in our small two-bedroom apartment in the city that never stops raining. That one day, she will whisk me away and back to the life that those stupid Morettis stole from her.

I hate the Morettis.

I have never seen them in real life before, but everything my mommy has told me about them makes me so mad!

Mommy says the Morettis killed her Daddy and that she had to change her name and run away. If she didn't, the Morettis would have killed her, too. And if they killed her, I would have never been born, and I am the best thing that has happened to her in all of her life.

My mother's face lights up when she says that, like I'm the sun shining through the rainy clouds.

But sometimes she gets in that mood where she just sits and stares out the window, not bothering to shower or eat. My teacher said we absolutely had to eat three meals a day and drink eight glasses of water, so I made her a sandwich and stood by her side until she finished it.

My father is never home anymore. At least not when I'm awake. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night and hear them arguing, and then I hear my mother crying afterward.

When I ask her about it in the morning, she just says that I shouldn't worry my pretty head about it. But how could I not when there are bruises on her neck and arms?

I don't like my Daddy anymore.

I don't like him hurting my Mommy.

I can just see how me and my Mommy will escape one day, to the beautiful apartment in the sky like we're real princesses. To the city where she walked in her heels and her head held high.

One day, I will take her back. I just know it.

Connor Johnson is a real pest today. He never leaves me alone on the playground, always following me and Alyssa, my best friend around with his group of friends.

"Go away, Connor!" Alyssa yells at him when we're climbing into the tree house.

I'm already almost in the house when I hear her shriek, and when I look down, it's no longer Alyssa who's behind me but stupid Connor.

I hurriedly scramble into the small space, but that's a mistake because now he has me cornered.

"What do you want, Connor Johnson!" I fold my arms and roll my eyes at him.

He grins and slowly walks toward me, backing me in a corner.

"It's time you gave up that kiss, Juliet."

His lips are on mine before I can stop him, but I push him away.

"Euw!" I scrunch up my nose.

Connor smiles triumphantly and goes back to the door. "I just kissed Juliet Monroe!"

I can hear his friends chanting, but I'm busy wiping my lips with the back of my sleeve.

Boys are so disgusting!

For the rest of the day, everyone is making fun of me by making kissing noises. My ears are burning in embarrassment, but Mommy always says not to hide from anyone, to hold my head up always. So that's exactly what I do.

I'm still reeling when I get off the bus after school. All the kids on the bus were laughing at me, but Alyssa was sweet and held my hand all the way to my apartment block.

Mommy says I shouldn't trust any friends. Friends can stab you in the back and won't even look at you when you need them the most.

But I really like Alyssa. She has always been kind, and she always helps me on the playground, especially with boys the likes of Connor Johnson.

Daddy is at work, so I get the key to the front door under the doormat, and I let myself in.

"Mommy, I'm home!" I call out. On the days that my mother just stares out the window, she even forgets to go to the bathroom, so I usually lead her there and make her take a shower.

I don't mind taking care of her because on the days she doesn't stare out the window, she is the best.

I feel so happy when I don't see her in front of the window. But she's not in the kitchen either. Mommy is not the best cook, but when she's herself, she really tries to cook me dinner from a recipe. It's not good, but I eat all of it because she made it for me.

I don't find her in the bedroom.

"Mommy?" I call out, worried. She wouldn't leave me, would she?

I know she'd never do that. She loves me way too much. If she didn't, I wouldn't have been her sunshine. She once said I'm the reason she's alive, and that means she'll be with me forever.

I check my bedroom, too, but it's exactly how I left it before school. I made my bed like I do every morning, and I picked up all my things from the floor. I don't want Mommy cleaning up after me, especially when she's feeling sad.

I knock on the toilet door, but she doesn't answer, so I turn the knob of the door to the bathroom and peek my head inside.

The shower isn't running, but the faucet to the bath is dripping water. I step inside to close it properly, but stop in my tracks when I see Mommy lying in the bath.

Why didn't she answer me?

I walk closer. "Mommy, I'm home."

She still doesn't answer.

Her long, blonde hair is floating in the water like a halo. I can't even see her face. Maybe she felt like swimming, so she put her whole head in the water.

She never told me if she liked swimming or not.

Her hand is dangling over the side of the tub, so I take it in mine. It's very cold.

"Mommy?" I squeeze her hand, but she still doesn't lift her head from underneath the water.

What if something is wrong? What if she got up to get out of the bath and then banged her head? She always said I had to be careful in the bathtub.

Maybe I should call for help? Maybe she could be hurt?

I hurriedly go back to the living room and start looking for her phone so I can call 911. I find it on the couch that she always sits on and calls the number.

"911, how may I help you?"

"I think my mommy is hurt, she's in the bathtub with her face in the water."

The operator asks me if there's another adult in the house. When I say no, she tells me to try and lift my mommy's face out of the water until the paramedics arrive, to first make sure the door is unlocked for them.

I do everything she says like a big girl, and I hoist my mommy up from underneath her arms, so her face can be out of the water and so she can breathe.

But her lips are blue, and her eyes are closed.

And she's not breathing.