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“Yes, boss,” comes their rapid response. I can’t bear to watch them lift her body and slide it inside the body bag. I fucking can’t.
I want to remember her the way she looked in my memories.
Like when she left me behind twenty-four years ago.
3
DANIEL
Eleven years old
“I’ll come back for you, I promise.” My sister whispers this to me in the early hours of the morning.
The silent house tells me our pathetic excuse for a dad finally passed out, surrounded by his usual pile of empty beer bottles.
When Emilia had woken me up, I froze in panic, expecting another random beating from Reggie. I’d been so relieved to see it was her instead, but the sight of her backpack and duffle bag had my stomach somersaulting with panic.
Emilia never told me she’d planned to leave, and we talked about everything—or I thought we did.
Things always seem a little less awful with Emilia around. She protects me the best she can from Reggie.
I guess I took that for granted.
“I need to get a job that pays enough money. In the meantime, try to stay out of his way.”
Still in shock that she’s actually leaving me, it takes a moment for her words to sink in. Stay out of his way? I stare at her like she’s lost her mind, because we both know that’s impossible.
We’d drawn the shortest of straws when it came to our dad. Ours was just plain evil. That’s why we didn’t call him Dad. He didn’t deserve that title. He’d lost it the first time he beat the crap out of us. We only call him Reggie.
“Please don’t leave,” I beg in a whisper as tears burn my eyes. “Don’t go.”
“I have to, Daniel.” Sadness lines her face, her own eyes filling with tears. “I promise I’ll come back for you.”
I hug her so tightly for so long that she has to pry herself loose of me. It’s because, deep down in my gut, I know I won’t see her again. If she’s smart, she’ll never show up back here ever again—at least, not as long as Reggie’s alive.
I listen to her creep silently through the house. Reggie’s snoring is nearly deafening while my silent tears soak my pillow.
* * *
6 months later
“You think you’re so smart, boy? Huh? Well, I’m gonna show you what happens to boys who think they’re better than me.”
He backhands me so hard, my neck cracks as my head snaps to the side. Instantly, I taste blood and know my teeth cut my lips from the impact.
Reggie sneers at me. “Ain’t so smart now, are ya? Can’t even defend yourself.”
Two large hands shove at my chest and slam me back against the kitchen pantry door. The handle’s edges dig into my back, and I flinch in pain while blood drips from my lip, spotting the worn floor at our feet.
“Your mama’s dead and your sister left your ass behind.” He gets in my face. His breath smells like the cheap beer he drinks all day long. “Nobody cares about you.” His mouth stretches into a slow smile, and instinctively, I know this is it.
He’s going to beat me to death.
I always figured it would happen one day. Mom died when I was four, and I’m pretty sure Reggie was beating the crap out of her long before that. As much as I hate to think it, a part of me resents her for taking the easy way out and leaving me and Emilia behind.
The monster towering in front of me slams his empty bottle against the counter’s edge, and I hate how I jump at the sound of breaking glass. When he raises his hand that grips the neck of the brown bottle, the jagged edges gleam in the light.
A sudden calmness spreads over me, and I can’t even explain it. I just know this is the moment I have to choose.
