Chapter 2: The Night Everything Broke

Senior year. My mom got caught cheating. They beat her half to death.

The news hit like a freight train.

She refused to admit she’d been unfaithful, still screaming that she’d kill that little brat.

Her voice was hoarse. Words slurred with pain and rage.

Pouring rain. Lauren stood over us, looking down like we were a pair of clowns.

Lightning flashed, illuminating Lauren’s face in the doorway. My stomach twisted. I’d never seen her look so cold, so dangerous.

That was the first time I felt it. The cold menace coming from her.

Her presence filled the room, heavy and oppressive. I felt the air squeeze out of my lungs.

Her revenge had begun.

From that night on, everything changed.

I used every dollar I’d saved from part-time jobs. Got my mom to a clinic.

We couldn’t go to a big hospital. I didn’t have that kind of money.

The doctor was stunned by my mom’s wrecked face.

He stared at her, his mouth a thin line. I could barely meet his eyes.

"This is... her face is ruined."

My chest tightened. I looked at my mom, not knowing what to say.

And her leg was broken too.

The doctor shook his head, muttering about the damage. I wanted to scream.

From then on, she was bedridden. Needed help with everything.

I became her nurse, her caretaker.

"You need a real hospital—trauma care," the doctor said. He couldn’t do much, just shook his head.

I spent what I had on painkillers and antibiotics. Every cent hurt. But what choice did I have?

Her fate was in God’s hands now.

At night, I prayed—something I hadn’t done in years.

After we left the Harringtons, I called in a favor. I’d chased away some stray dogs for an old lady. She let us rent a room on the edge of town.

The place was a dump, but it was ours.

Barely big enough for a bed. Shared bathroom down the hall.

The air always smelled like sewage, flies everywhere. I’d gag sometimes, but there was nothing else.

But I could handle it. I’d lived in worse before the Harringtons.

But my mom couldn’t stand it.

She complained nonstop. Her voice rose with every new discomfort.

She woke up in pain. Slapped me across the face.

Her hand cracked against my cheek, the sting sharp and sudden. I wanted to cry, but I just stood there, numb.

She wanted to go back. Wanted to keep being Mrs. Harrington.

I touched my numb face. “Fine. Crawl back there yourself.”

She didn’t know. The day she was kicked out, that mansion already had a new mistress.

Men. Always wanting someone new.

She’d enjoyed ten years of luxury. That was enough.

She tried to hit me again. I dodged.

I wasn’t that boy anymore. Not the one who got pushed around ten years ago.

I hated my mom, but I couldn’t just abandon her.

After my grandma died, she was all I had left. I felt it every day—a lonely ache that never went away.

I went to class by day. Picked through trash at night to save money.

Sometimes I’d think, at least it was faster than scraping by in the Harrington house.

There, I was free labor. Worked like a mule, ate like a bird, and got paid nothing.

It was tough, but at least I was free.