Family Truth Or Dare

I died on my birthday, but neither my parents nor my husband noticed. They were too busy pouring all their attention into planning my twin sister, Esme Shaw's, birthday party. While she was surrounded by people helping her pick out a gown, I was tied up and thrown into the basement. With what little strength I had left, I forced my broken fingers to press in the code—9395. It was a signal my husband, Edwin Grant, and I had once agreed on. It was a straightforward way to call for help in the event of danger. I never thought I would actually need it one day. But when I sent it, he didn't believe me. His reply was cold, "Claudia, just because I didn't take you shopping for a new dress, you've decided to put on a show? "You can still wear last year's gown. Stop making trouble. I'll see you at the party later." What he didn't know was that Esme had already shredded that gown into pieces. And what he couldn't imagine was that the moment after he hung up, I was already gone. So, when the celebration began, I never appeared. But when everyone saw the birthday gift I had prepared for Esme ahead of time, the entire room lost its mind.

When I was ten, Jonathan Cooper saved me and told me he would protect me for life. When I was 15, I met William Reed. He also told me he would protect me forever. Yet, the year I turned 23, the two men who swore to always keep me safe threw me into the ocean for the sake of their true love.

My body drifted in the river for five years before a fishing enthusiast reeled it in. Even though the forensic pathologist managed to reconstruct my face from when I was alive through craniofacial reconstruction technology, the hatred my brother had for me remained as strong as ever. "That better be her body! She has been on the run for five years! Even in death, she doesn't deserve pity! In fact, it simply is a disgrace to have a murderer like her as the daughter of the Clarke family!" he hissed. Everyone thought he despised me with every fiber of his being. Yet, as he spoke, his entire body trembled. Who would have guessed that the distress call I made to him five years ago would end up becoming the main factor that hastened my death?

While I was watching my own child, I came across an anonymous post online: [My son married way above his station. How can I get him to divorce her?] The poster claimed to be a mother. She said she hated her oldest son, describing him as lazy and selfish, and totally undeserving of such a great in-law family. Her plan was to force him to get a divorce—and then send her well-behaved, obedient younger son in his place as the new son-in-law. The comment section went crazy. [I've seen parents play favorites, but this is just twisted.] [Is the oldest adopted or something? Who schemes against their own flesh and blood like that?] [Are you marrying off a son or pimping one out? Just swapping them in to serve a rich family?] Then, in the middle of all the outrage, one comment surfaced: [Men hate being cheated on. Fake a few photos of your daughter-in-law with another guy and send them to him. Once he loses it, the marriage is as good as over.] The original poster replied immediately: [Thanks, girl! I'll try it right away.] The next second, my phone buzzed. A message from my mom popped up on the screen: [Jason, take a look at this. Do you think Emily is cheating?]

I used to be treated like a princess in Lumenclaw Pack. But the first day after my eighteenth birthday, my Alpha dad brought home a charity case—Callie from the welfare center. Everything flipped. Ryell, my own brother, ditched me for her. Jovan, my future mate? Shielded her. Even Dad called her sweet, kind—"a thousand times better than you." Graduation Day. Strike 101. They picked her. Again. "Aren't I your real family?" Dad hesitated—but only to hide Callie behind him like some precious thing. Her fake tears. His real slap. "Such a petty wolf. I wish I'd never had you." Ryell sneered, "Having a sister like you makes me sick. Get out!" I didn't scream. Didn't cry. Just packed and walked. They thought I'd break like always—cry, forgive, crawl back. But not this time. I called my mom. Took her offer. Moved to her distant pack. If they wanted me gone, wish granted. So why the hell did they come begging when they realized I meant it?

I struggle with all my might, but Dad restrains me, and Mom breaks my limbs. Then, my sister seals me into the concrete. "Concrete is only brought to life with an actual person sealed inside. It looks so much more defined! It's not like you'll die after being sealed in there for a few days. How can you be so insensible?" The pain of having my limbs broken and my oxygen being cut off leads to me dying within that block of concrete. My body rots and festers inside, but my soul sticks around to watch how my parents dote on their adoptive child. They seem to be happy without me. Finally, I lose all hope in them. But when the liquid from my body seeps out of the concrete, they all lose their minds.

Of all the pups in the clan, my parents only loved my brother and sister, but not me. When the fire broke in the pack, they hurried into the flames to save their pups, but only took my brother and sister. Left behind, I suffered facial burns and my wolf grew extremely weak. From then on, I lost interest in fighting for their love. Whoever wanted them, could have them. After all, I was already dying. But I did not anticipate their regret. They held my thin frail body and begged: “Could you throw a little tantrum at us again… just once more?”

Half a year after our divorce, my ex-husband became a trending topic online. His current wife, who had just given birth, jumped off a building. When she jumped, she was clutching a printed, 98-page copy of the "Cloves Family Code of Conduct." The reason for her suicide? She couldn’t buy discounted groceries online. A reporter came to interview me and asked, "Excuse me, were you also given the same family rules?"

My brother calls me his princess and transfers money to me as allowance; his wife-to-be misunderstands and thinks I'm his secret lover. She crashes my new apartment, which I've lovingly decorated, with a group of friends and family. "I can't believe you're someone's secret lover when you're so young! I'll teach you a lesson on your parents' behalf! I'm going to spread your illicit relationship online so your teachers and classmates will all know how shameless you are!" They trash my new apartment and rip my clothes off. Then, they make sure to get my student ID in the scene as they record me getting bullied. My brother rushes over, his eyes red and bloodshot. "Have you guys lost your mind? How dare you bully my sister!"

Each of my three ex-boyfriends ends up committing suicide right after eating food that my mother, Florence Winters, makes. Their deaths are very different from one another, with the only similarity being that they all eat food made by Mom before they die. Mom goes viral in an instant. She becomes the center of everyone's attention, and she is even taken away by the police. But they never manage to find anything wrong with any of the food she makes. I don't dare to get into another relationship. I pack my things and move out of the house, leaving Mom. Two years later, Mom shows up at my engagement party. She proceeds to feed my fiance, Lawrence Smith, some food…