Chapter 1

At dusk, Mom, Dad, and Nina rushed home after a call from the police.

Dad came straight to me, eyes red like he'd been crying. "Talia, you're finally back. You must've suffered a lot over there, right?"

Three months in Nyamara. Before I left, they cried just like this—swore they'd bring me home soon.

Half an hour ago, I saw them feasting at a luxury hotel.

Dad kept going. "If we hadn't sent you there to toughen you up, with your delicate personality, you'd never measure up to your sister."

Mom grabbed his sleeve, shot him a look. "Enough. She's back. It'd be the same if she stayed home."

Dad nodded, then shoved a bag into my hands. "You must be starving. Hurry and eat."

I opened it. A sour stench hit me.

Chunks of bread, yellow-green with mold.

The only clean spot had a muddy footprint stamped into it.

***

Third-Person POV

Time rewinds—Gregory and Helen at the hotel when the police call hits.

They'd told the waiter to pack the leftovers for Talia.

Nina stared at the scraps, frowning. "She's never eaten this good. Won't that give us away..."

Gregory hesitated.

Nina pointed out the window. "That man looks so pitiful. The bread he's holding's already gone bad."

She curled into Helen's arms, soft and fragile. "Mom, Dad, can we help him?"

Gregory's eyes lit up. He told the waiter to trade the leftovers for the stale chunks of bread.

When he told Nina to take it, her hand shook.

The bread slipped. Hit the ground.

She stomped on it. Hard.

***

Talia's POV

I grabbed the bag. No hesitation. Pulled out a piece and shoved it into my mouth. Big bites.

In Nyamara, they didn't feed me. When I got hungry, I dug through the dump for scraps.

If they caught me, they saved the leftovers till they went sour, tossed them in the bathroom trash, and made me crawl and eat off the floor like a dog.

Moldy bread? That was good food to me.

But my stomach had shrunk from starving. Two bites in, my face went pale.

I hit the floor and threw up.

Dad's eyes locked on me. "Talia, you too good for the bread I brought? Your mom and I have to collect a whole sack of bottles just to afford it. Don't grow up chasing better food and clothes."

He shoved another piece into my mouth.

I stumbled back. Pain ripped through my left leg—the one I braced with a tree branch. I hit the ground hard.

Dad lifted his hand. The color drained from my face.

I curled up, arms over my head. "Don't hit me, don't hit me! I was wrong. I'm sorry."

In Nyamara, one mistake meant getting hung up and whipped with thorny branches.

I'd learned.

I lay there, choking down the bread in desperate gulps.

Dad frowned at me shaking. "Talia, what's wrong with you—"

Nina rushed in, hugging me like she cared. "Talia, I know you're timid, but it was just a fall. You're fine."

Dad's face went dark. "You're scared over this? How are you ever gonna amount to anything?"

He kicked me. Hard. "No backbone. You need discipline."

I slammed into the ground. A sharp ring burst in my ears.

This time, I clamped my hand over my mouth. No sound.

Dad's expression eased.

He stared at me. "Talia, forgetting something?"

I nodded, pulled five thousand dollars from inside my clothes, and handed it over. "I'm sorry, Dad. That's all I saved in Nyamara."

He looked a little disappointed, then pocketed it anyway with a smug look.

"Now you get how hard money is. We can't compare to the rich. We're counting on you to grow up fast and help out."

His tone softened. "It's fine. You're back now. Go work construction tomorrow. Help pay off our debts."

He glanced at Mom. "Give her that."

Mom pulled a wrinkled dress from a plastic bag. "Talia, this is a new dress to welcome you home."

I knew it was one of Nina's old dresses—Dad must've told her to dig it out on the way back. Worn a few times, then tossed once it lost its shape.

I usually wore faded, torn uniforms. Never anything this nice.

I held it carefully, breathing in the detergent.

But my left leg was gone. My right one was wrecked. I couldn't wear something like this.

I opened my mouth to ask for money to treat my leg—

Dad cut in, counting the cash. "Talia, why is it five hundred short?"

His brows pulled tight, eyes on me like I'd already lied.

"Dad, I went to the hospital—"

Nina cut in. "Talia, you didn't hide five hundred for yourself, did you?"

Dad glared. "Talia, did you steal?"

I tried to explain—

Nina tugged his arm, all soft and innocent. "Dad, don't hit her. Even if she always steals, she's so timid. If you just scold her, she won't do it again."

That lit him up.

"Seriously? You're that scared and still stealing? What are you—a coward or a crook? I raised you for nothing!"

He slammed me into the wall and kept whipping me with an electrical cord until my skin split.

He didn't stop until midnight.

I lay limp on the freezing balcony, my body burning with fever.

A sheet of cardboard was my bed. Cold concrete dug into my wounds, sending sharp pain through me.

Someone passing by noticed. A little girl shrank into her mom's arms. "Mom, there's a girl on that balcony!"

Her mom hushed her. "Silly. What kind of family makes their daughter sleep outside? That's their dog."

I let out a bitter laugh.

I pulled Grandpa's photo from inside my clothes.

Before they brought me to Northport City, I lived in the countryside with him.

I wiped my tears. They fell onto his gentle smile. "Grandpa, why haven't you come to take me home yet? It hurts so much."