Chapter 4

Kenneth was silent for eight full seconds. I counted it.

Then his reply finally came through: [Come over. I'll explain.]

I closed my hand around the condom packet and drove straight to the address he'd sent me. A crowd had gathered in the backyard, laughing, drinking, and enjoying a summer cookout around the grill.

Berta sat right in the middle, chatting and laughing as though she owned the place, while I looked like the outsider who had just wandered into the wrong party.

The moment they saw me, the laughter stopped.

"Come here."

Kenneth frowned and waved dismissively. The cold impatience in his eyes sent a sharp pain through me.

I didn't move, but Berta did. With a smug smile, she walked over, caught me by the arm, and tried to pull me toward the grill.

"I heard your dad was stabbed to death by your mom, and then your mom killed herself in a psychiatric hospital," she taunted. "So, does that make you the daughter of a crazy woman?"

Met with my glare, she continued innocently, "Don't look at me like that. Kenneth told me all about it when we were in bed. He said..."

My palm struck her cheek before she could finish. I was the one who'd slapped her, yet my whole body was shaking with pain.

Back then, Kenneth had covered my eyes and told me to forget the past pain. How could he turn the deepest trauma of my life into pillow talk with his lover?

Berta recovered quickly and shoved me with both hands. I stumbled backward and crashed into the grill, knocking over the table as bottles and glasses went flying.

The metal rack tipped, sending a shower of glowing coals and scorching pieces of iron onto my bare arm. The pain hit so suddenly and violently that a strangled scream tore from my throat.

Yet the man, who had protected me for most of my life, didn't even look at me. He rushed straight to Berta, who was clutching her cheek and crying.

He pulled her into his arms, his voice tight with concern. "Are you okay?"

Berta shook her head, looking apologetic. "I didn't mean to. Hannah hit me first, and I just reacted..."

He held her tighter before turning to me with icy contempt. "Hannah, when are you going to stop acting crazy? If you hurt her, how are you going to make it right?"

I stared into his eyes before glancing down at my arm.

The skin was already red and blistering, and the smell of scorched flesh was so strong it made me nauseous. My face had gone pale from the pain, and I could barely keep my legs steady.

Yet none of it mattered to him. All he saw was the slap I'd given Berta.

I forced myself upright and raised a trembling hand toward the woman in his arms. "Did you hear what she just said? She said my father was..."

"Isn't it true?" He cut me off impatiently, his brows drawn together.

The laughter and chatter around us suddenly swelled into a deafening roar in my ears. I wanted to scream at him, slap him, and ask how he could say something like that to me.

But when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. I could only clutch the hem of my shirt, choke back my tears, and stumble away.

Behind me, phones clicked as people took pictures, while whispers and snickers spread through the crowd. Berta's quiet sobbing followed me, sounding almost triumphant.

Still holding her, Kenneth called after me, "Hannah, I'm giving you one night to apologize to her. Otherwise, someone else will take your place."

I froze for a moment, but I didn't turn around. "Kenneth, we're done."

The cold wind cut across my wound like blades, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the sting of his betrayal.

The boy who used to buy me lollipops and fold origami frogs for me had finally become the person hurting me most.

In the back of a cab, I reached into my pocket and wrapped my fingers around the faded paper ring I'd kept all these years.

My tears finally began to fall, not because of the burns, but because the last person I'd believed would always love me was gone, just like my father and my mother had been.

I got my burns treated at the hospital, then headed straight to the airport.

Kenneth didn't even bother asking about my injuries. There was only a message that read: [Apologize to Berta first. I'll explain everything else later.]

I stared at the screen for a long time before it finally went dark. My reflection stared back at me from the black glass, with red-rimmed eyes and bloodless lips.

I removed my SIM card, dropped it into the trash, and walked down the jet bridge without looking back.