Chapter 2

I didn't say anything. I went to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of water, and stayed in my room for the rest of the day.

At noon, I heard her cooking in the kitchen. First came the chopping, the sizzle of the pan, and the hum of the range hood. Then I heard the clink of dishes and the sound of chewing, and finally the water running as she washed up.

She never called me, even though she knew skipping a single meal gave me stomach pains.

Sure enough, by the afternoon my stomach hurt so badly I broke out in a cold sweat. I left my room to get some antacids from the living room, but I'd barely opened the medicine box when Mom spoke up right behind me.

"What are you doing?"

I could hardly stand. I looked up at her and pleaded, "Mom, my stomach hurts. I just want some antacids."

"I said no food, and that includes medicine!"

With that, she carried the medicine box into her bedroom and slammed the door.

I couldn't hold myself up anymore, so I lay down on the tile floor, gasping for air. After half an hour, I pushed myself up, went to the kitchen, and poured a glass of hot water. Two glasses later, the pain had only eased a little, so I went back to my room and curled up in bed.

The next morning, Mom came in right on schedule, pulled the curtains open, and pushed the window as wide as it would go. The cold air made me shiver, and she yanked the thin blanket off me. "Come eat."

There were two bowls of oatmeal on the table, each with a slice of toast. She sat on one side, and I sat on the other. We ate facing each other without saying a word.

Halfway through, she suddenly spoke. "Do you remember now?"

My spoon froze on the way to my mouth. "Yes."

Mom set her spoon down and looked at me coldly. "What did you learn?"

I kept my eyes down. "My slippers go back where they belong so they can dry."

She nodded and went back to eating.

That night, I found a new entry in the notebook. "One day without food was effective. Evie says she's learned the rule."

The word "effective" chilled me to the bone.

Home felt more suffocating by the day. A few days later, I came home from school in the afternoon, and just as my key slid into the lock, I heard a soft ding from a phone inside.

When I pushed the door open, Mom was sitting in her usual spot with the notebook open on the arm of the couch. She didn't look at me. She just picked up her pen and started writing on a fresh page.

"October 28, overcast. Evie's homeroom teacher, Ms. Delgado, texted to say that Evie turned around to talk to the student behind her several times during math class today and disrupted the class."

I hadn't even put my backpack down, but my heart sank.

"Get on your knees." Her voice wasn't loud. She said it like something that had already been decided. "Do it in the middle of the living room, facing the front door."

I didn't argue. I knelt as I was told and kept my head down, staring at the pattern in the floor tiles. Mom stopped looking at me and went on writing.

I didn't know how much time had passed when the doorbell suddenly rang. It was a food delivery. Mom put down her pen and got up to answer it, and on instinct I wanted to curl up, or at least duck my head lower.

"Don't move. Stay on your knees."

The door opened, and a delivery driver in a blue uniform stood there holding a takeout bag. "Hi, here's your orde—"

His voice cut off the moment he saw me kneeling in the middle of the living room. I could feel his stunned stare on me, and my face burned even hotter than it had after the slaps.

"Thanks." Mom's voice was completely flat. She took the food and shut the door.

The second the door closed, I couldn't hold it together anymore. All the humiliation and fear I'd bottled up broke loose at once, and the tears came before I could stop them.

I jerked my head up. "Mom, why do you have to write down something as small as talking in class? Why did you have to let the delivery guy see me like this?"

Mom set the food on the entryway table and turned toward me. Nothing on her face showed she'd been bothered by the question. She didn't even come closer—she just stood there looking down at me while I fell apart.

"Rules are rules. When you do something wrong, you get punished."

She paused, then added flatly, "That's part of the rules too. It teaches you that when you break them, you can't hide from the consequences."

With that, she stopped looking at me and walked straight into the kitchen. I stared at the open notebook while my stomach churned. The world twisted and spun in front of me, and I couldn't get a single word out.