Chapter 1
My stepmother slapped me so hard my head hit the fridge. Tonight, for the first time, I didn't just take it.
Aiden was screaming in the kitchen when I walked in from school.
He's six. My little brother. Our mom died three years ago. Karen moved in six months later.
She stood over him, red in the face. "Look what you did," she said to me.
I hadn't even been home.
"I just walked in the door," I said.
"You upset him before you left," she snapped. "You always do this."
She raised her hand again.
I caught her wrist.
The kitchen went quiet. Aiden stopped crying.
"Don't you ever," I said.
She screamed. My dad came running from the garage.
"She attacked me!" Karen shouted, holding her wrist.
Dad looked at me, disappointed. "Olivia. What is going on?"
I knelt down to Aiden.
"Aiden," I said softly. "Tell Daddy why you were crying. The truth."
He looked at Karen. Then at the floor.
"I… I fell," he whispered.
Karen smiled. "See? She's lying. She always lies."
Dad sighed. "Olivia, go to your room."
I didn't move. I pulled Aiden's sleeve up gently.
On his arm, fresh and dark, was a handprint. Too big for mine.
Dad knelt down. He turned Aiden's arm over.
His face went white.
"Aiden," he said, voice shaking. "Who did this to you?"
Aiden looked at Karen. She mouthed one word. No.
But this time, Aiden didn't look away.
"She did," he said, pointing at Karen. "She pinched me. She said if I didn't cry and say Olivia did it, she'd do it worse."
The kitchen went dead silent.
Dad stood up slowly.
"Get out," he said. "Get out of my house tonight."
Karen didn't move.
She placed one hand on her stomach.
"I can't do that," she said quietly. "Not now. Not when I'm carrying your son."
Dad froze.
May you like
Aiden squeezed my hand.
And I realized — she'd planned every single part of this.
