Chapter 3

Rebecca shot me a venomous look before staggering out of my room.

I set the porcelain doll down on the table, my fingers trembling uncontrollably.

...

In the dead of night.

I was yanked from my bed with brute force and slammed onto the freezing floor.

My knees and elbows screamed with pain.

I looked up to find my father's furious eyes on me, his words a torrent of anger.

"How vicious you are despite being so young, Joanna. You know your sister's allergic to acrylic; she can't even touch it.

"How could you leave that dirty thing in our home?! Were you trying to off her?!"

He was holding my porcelain doll.

"No, Dad," I pleaded, crawling toward him, pain forgotten in my desperation.

"It's not the doll. I swear it doesn't have any acrylic, it really doesn't!

"Please, just give it back to me, please? It's the only thing I have left from my mom!"

I tried to grab it, but he shoved me back hard, and I tumbled to the floor once more.

"No excuses!" Nash's fury was boiling over as he jabbed a finger at the doll.

"Ever since your sister came out of your room, she's been covered in rashes and can barely breathe. The doctor says it's an acrylic allergy. What else could it be, if not this junky toy?"

He lifted his arm.

"Please, no!"

Crash!

The porcelain doll lay in pieces before me.

"Mom… Mom!"

I crouched and shakily tried to gather the broken fragments. Alas, no matter how gently I tried, the doll was beyond repair.

It was not until the next day, when Rebecca walked by my room, that I started to snap out of it. I picked myself up off the floor.

I had someone clear out the room.

Silently, I moved to the desk, my eyes landing on the dusty family portrait.

There they were, Rebecca and Nash. Her smile was so bright that it hurt to look at.

Outside, the sky was a menacing shade of gray.

I set the photo on fire with a lighter, and I watched in silence as it turned to ash.

...

In the days that followed, I kept my tears and tantrums to myself. Slowly but surely, I let out the news and proof of my dad ditching his first love.

Seeing him run around like a headless chicken gave me a twisted sense of satisfaction.

By the time I left Cascade City, Rebecca and Nash's world had crumbled.

The day before I took off, Calvin showed up at the Smiths'.

"Heard you're heading to Zephyr City," he said, his voice so flat I could not read him.

"Yeah," I muttered, not even looking up as I shuffled through some papers that did not matter anymore.

He took a step closer, and I could feel the weight of an unseen pressure bearing down on me.

"Zephyr City's a real maze, with secrets as deep as the ocean. Wouldn't you rather stay in Cascade City? I'm here, at least." There was a worry in his eyes that I did not recognize.

I swiftly, icily replied, "I can handle myself, Mr. Porter. You should save your concern for yourself."

A dark cloud passed through his eyes before he grabbed my arm, his grip so tight that it felt like my bones might snap.

"Joanna, you can ask me for one favor–as long as it doesn't hurt Rebecca. I owe you that much."

I looked down, thinking to myself, 'Yeah, you owe me big time, from a whole other life.'

Right then, Rebecca strolled up, all smiles, hooking her arm through Calvin's. "Calvin, Jo, what's all the serious talk about?"