Chapter 3

My sister answered on the first ring.

“Maya?”

I tried to speak.

Nothing came out.

Ryan moved closer.

“Hang up.”

That gave me my voice.

“Leah,” I said, “I need you.”

Her tone changed instantly.

“What happened?”

“Ryan hit me.”

Silence.

Then keys jingled.

“I’m coming.”

Patricia snatched for the phone.

I stepped back.

Ryan grabbed my wrist.

Not hard at first.

Then harder when I pulled away.

“Do not make this worse,” he hissed.

I looked down at his hand.

Then at him.

“You already did.”

I put the call on speaker.

Leah’s voice filled the kitchen.

“Ryan, if your hand is on my sister, remove it before I arrive with police.”

He let go.

Patricia scoffed.

“Dramatic family.”

Leah answered, “Dangerous family.”

I almost cried.

Not because I was weak.

Because someone believed me immediately.

Ryan walked to the sink and splashed water on his face like he was the one who had been struck.

“You don’t understand what this does to me,” he said.

I stared.

“To you?”

“I’m the last son. My father wants grandchildren. My mother wants a legacy.”

Patricia lifted her chin.

“And there is nothing wrong with that.”

I looked at her.

“Your legacy is not worth my life.”

She slapped the folder onto the counter.

“You are selfish.”

That word landed strangely.

For years, I had been careful not to be selfish.

I worked extra shifts when Ryan said we needed savings.

I skipped lunches to pay down his student loan.

I moved across town to be closer to his mother because he said she was lonely.

I hosted holidays.

Remembered birthdays.

Cleaned after guests.

Smiled through Patricia’s comments about my body, my cooking, my clothes, my family.

And now, because I wanted to live, I was selfish.

“No,” I said quietly.

“I’m done being useful enough to be loved.”

Ryan stared.

Leah arrived twelve minutes later.

She walked into the kitchen, saw my cheek, and stopped.

Her face went pale.

Then hard.

She looked at Ryan.

“If you ever touch her again, I will make sure every person you work with knows exactly who you are.”

Patricia laughed.

“Threats?”

Leah smiled coldly.

“No. Documentation.”

She lifted her phone.

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