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Chapter 2

Author: Eternity
Apple pie.

To most people, it was only a family dessert. To me, it was a six-year punishment.

I first made it for Mom’s fortieth birthday. I was twelve, and she often talked about the apple pie my grandmother used to bake in Sicily.

I practiced with our cook for a week. I peeled so many apples that I cut my fingers twice, and hot sugar blistered my hand. Following my grandmother’s recipe, I added a little lemon juice to keep the apples from browning.

When I carried the pie into the dining room, Mom’s face lit up.

She had just lifted her fork when Camilla said softly, “It smells wonderful. My dad used to make apple pie for my birthday.”

The dad she meant was Marco—the man who had died protecting our family.

Mom immediately pushed the untouched pie toward her.

“Then it’s all yours tonight.” She stroked Camilla’s hair. “Whenever you miss something from your old life, you can tell me.”

The gift I had spent a week preparing became proof that Camilla belonged in our family.

Mom never tasted it.

Camilla took several bites. Then her face reddened, and she began struggling to breathe.

My parents rushed her to the hospital.

I sat alone at the dining table until after midnight, staring at the half-eaten pie and wondering what I had done wrong.

When they returned, Camilla was curled against Mom’s chest.

The moment she saw me, she whispered, “Please don’t blame Audrey. She probably didn’t know I was allergic to lemons.”

Mom’s expression changed.

She crossed the room and slapped me.

“Why didn’t you tell us there was lemon in the pie?”

“No one told me she was allergic.”

“You should have asked,” Dad said coldly. “You’re a DeLuca. You’re supposed to think before your actions put someone in danger.”

After that, whenever Camilla wanted apple pie, my parents made me bake it as a lesson. I had to clean every utensil, check every label, and prepare the filling exactly the way she liked it.

For six years, I mistook that punishment for a chance to earn back their love.

Now I only pitied the girl who had tried so hard.

“Ask the cook to make it,” I said, holding the banister. “I don’t want to.”

Dad stared at me. Mom frowned. Neither had expected their obedient daughter to refuse.

I turned toward my room.

Camilla hurried after me and grabbed my arm.

“Are you still angry with me?” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to tell Mom and Dad that you spent my food money.”

The foyer went silent.

Dad crossed the room and slapped me.

I fell against the stairs. My injured right leg struck the edge, and pain tore through the fresh sutures.

“You dare blame Camilla?” His voice was low and frightening. “If you hadn’t taken her food money, she wouldn’t have collapsed from hunger. Marco gave his life for this family, and you still treated his daughter this way.”

Mom saw the blood spreading through my bandage and came forward to help me up.

“Audrey, we don’t make you sign those notes because we don’t love you,” she said. “You’re our biological daughter and the future of this family. We expect you to be honest and take responsibility.”

I moved away from her.

“I didn’t steal her money. And I didn’t lie about the accident.”

Mom’s expression tightened.

“We asked Dr. Bennett. The family medical center has no record of treating you.”

“If you needed money, you could have asked me,” Camilla said. “I would have shared my allowance. We’re sisters.”

Mom pulled her close.

“You don’t have to keep defending her.”

I looked at Camilla in my mother’s arms and laughed softly.

Two hundred promissory notes were an education. Forgetting my birthday was an obligation. Nearly dying was another lesson.

Dad immediately stepped in front of Camilla.

“What are you planning to do?”

I removed the surgical report from my bag and dropped it at his feet.

“The ambulance took me to the county hospital because I couldn’t afford your private medical center. That’s why Dr. Bennett found no record.”

Dad picked it up.

As he read my name, the surgery time, and the diagnosis, the color drained from his face.

Mom stared at the words FRACTURE REPAIR and EMERGENCY SURGERY.

“Audrey, your leg…”

She stepped toward me, panic finally breaking through her certainty.

Camilla rushed forward first.

“You really were hurt?” Tears streamed down her face as she seized my arm. “Why didn’t you tell us again? If we hadn’t been arranging my birthday party, Mom and Dad could have stayed with you.”

Her fingernails dug into my injured arm.

I pulled away instinctively.

Camilla threw herself backward onto the carpet.

Dad caught her. Mom immediately stepped between us.

“Audrey! We know now that we misjudged you, but Camilla was only trying to comfort you. Why must you punish her for our mistake?”

Dad’s guilt disappeared behind anger.

“It was an accident. You survived.”

He drew Camilla against him.

“Her father didn’t.”

Then he looked at me.

“Apologize.”
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