My whole family could hear my six-year-old adopted sister's thoughts. The moment the test confirmed I was in my mother's womb, my sister, Claire, grew depressed. My family heard her inner voice, laced with sorrow: 【What do I do? Should I tell them? When they found Mom passed out in that frat house bedroom… I saw one of the frat guys running out, zipping his fly.】 When my mother heard that, she had a violent breakdown. She tried to get an abortion, but her health was too fragile for the procedure. She spent the pregnancy in a haze of self-destruction, and when I was born, we both nearly died. After my birth, Claire was terrified. For three days, she wouldn't eat, her mind repeating the same thought over and over: 【I had a nightmare. The baby… when she grows up, she’s a sociopath. She’s going to take the company from Dad, and she’s going to throw me out of the house. She’s going to destroy us.】 And so, before I was even a month old, my parents dumped me in a state group home and never looked back. Eight years later, my mother was dying. She needed a bone marrow transplant. I begged my case worker to let me get tested. I was a perfect match. After the surgery, I pulled out my own IV and snuck down the hall to her room. I just wanted to see her. I saw her holding Claire, her face full of love. "Thank you, my Claire-bear, for saving Mommy. You're my good girl." Then she looked up and saw me, shrunk against the doorframe. 1 My breath caught. I looked at her, full of a desperate, stupid hope. "Mommy...?" The second our eyes met, my mother’s face went white. Her body went rigid, then began to shake. "Mommy! What's wrong!" Claire screamed, jumping off the bed. I rushed forward, terrified. "Mom, are you—" My fingers had just brushed the sleeve of her hospital gown when a strong hand grabbed me by the back of my shirt and hauled me backward. Doctors and nurses flooded the room, pushing me out into the hallway. I looked up. A tall man stood over me, his shadow covering me completely. His eyes were dead. I didn't dare look at him. My whole body was shaking. I twisted the hem of my thin jacket. "Dad...?" "Don't," he commanded. His voice was like ice. I stopped breathing. My father, Harrison Montgomery, took a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and began to wipe his fingers, one by one. He was looking at me like I was something he’d scraped off his shoe. "Get her out of here," he said to no one in particular. The door clicked shut. I crouched in the corner by the door, scrubbing my face and hands with the sleeve of my jacket, scrubbing until my skin was raw. If I was clean, maybe they would let me see her. A nurse paused on her rounds. "Are you the donor for 307? You look just like her." She smiled. "Why aren't you inside with your mom?" I froze. A tiny spark of joy lit up in my chest. "My dad... he said to wait out here." I stood on my toes, peering through the small glass window in the door. She was so beautiful. My mom. Her eyes fluttered open and met mine. I was so excited. I started to wave. Her eyes widened in sheer terror. The monitor beside her bed let out a long, piercing beep. "She's crashing! Something triggered her! Get the cart!" Harrison’s head snapped toward the window. His glare was a physical blow. He motioned to the two security guards at the end of the hall. They hauled me away. "I don't get it," one guard muttered. "Mr. Montgomery is usually a pretty decent guy. Why's he so hard on a little kid?" The other guard looked at me with open disgust. "You don't know? That's the family's dirty secret. The one from the incident. Mrs. Montgomery was attacked, and that… thing… was the result." "If she hadn't been so high-risk, they would've aborted it. They just threw it away instead." I stopped struggling. I couldn't feel the guard's grip on my arm. So... I wasn't his daughter. That's why she hated me. I was the stain she couldn't wash out. Two nurses came out of the room, carrying a balled-up hospital gown. I pulled free and ran toward them. I just wanted to ask if she was okay. "This is a limited-edition silk gown," one nurse said, holding the gown by a single finger. "She just changed into it. Why throw it out?" "She said something dirty touched it. Said she felt disgusting." I stopped. I looked at my own hand, the one that had brushed her sleeve. Through the window, I saw my father and Claire surrounding the bed. My mother was smiling at them. That night, back at the group home, I held the picture. It was a collage I'd made from magazines, cutting out different actresses' features to build a face that looked like hers. I traced her paper cheek with my finger. My nose stung. She had never, not once, smiled at me. I curled up on my cot, hugging the picture to my chest, pretending it was her. The next day, I saw her again. She was waiting outside a private school, her arms open wide, smiling as Claire ran out. The look in her eyes... it was so warm. I watched from across the street, my chest aching. If she would just hug me, one time... Suddenly, she looked up, her eyes scanning the street. She saw me. And at that exact moment, Claire’s thought cut through the air: 【Should I tell Mom? That Maya’s been bullying me. She tells all the other kids I’m just the adopted trash.】 My blood ran cold. 2 My mother strode across the street, her purse clutched in her hand. My heart hammered. I fumbled with my jacket, trying to smooth it down. "Mom..." CRACK. The slap sent me stumbling back, my cheek instantly on fire. "Stay away from my daughter," she hissed. It was the first time she had ever touched me. Her face was twisted with a disgust that was bone-deep. I just stood there, stunned, as she grabbed Claire’s hand and stalked away. Claire looked back over her shoulder, a tiny, triumphant smile on her face. Tears streamed down my face, but I didn't wipe them away. It hurt. But it was her touch. Later, I thought she might come back. The sun went down. The school was empty. My mother never came. But Claire did. She brought her friends. They dragged me into the girl's bathroom. One of them held me down while Claire used a plastic protractor from her bag to slice my cheek. "You don't get to look like her," she whispered, her voice a singsong. "She's my mommy." They went for my backpack. I clutched it, rolling onto my stomach. Inside was my collage-picture. They kicked me. In the ribs, in the stomach. I just held on, the breath knocked out of me. But they were stronger. Claire ripped the picture out. She looked at it, and her face went dark. "You're still doing this? I tore up the last one." "Mommy says you're dirty. She hates you! I'm just helping her!" She grabbed my hair and shoved my head into a toilet, flushing it. "You're so dirty, Maya! You'll never be clean!" Wastewater filled my nose, my mouth. I couldn't breathe. When I was limp, they threw me on the tiled floor. They tore my picture into tiny pieces and flushed it. I screamed, plunging my hands into the toilet bowl, trying to save the scraps. I only grabbed a few wet pieces. I couldn't stop crying. After that, I only watched her from a distance. Until the day I saw the car. It was a silver sedan. It blew a red light, swerved to avoid a bus, and jumped the curb, heading right for my mother. Claire froze, her mouth open in a scream. I didn't think. I just ran. I slammed into my mother, pushing her back against the brick wall. The car hit me. It was the first time I had ever been in her arms. "Mr. Montgomery," his assistant said nervously, "the press is all over this. 'Homeless Girl Sacrifices Self for Tech Heiress.' It's a PR nightmare. We need to control the narrative. Sir, perhaps we should... bring her home? Temporarily?" My father's jaw was tight. He looked at his silent wife. He sighed. "Fine. For now." Claire sat beside my mother's hospital bed, her head bowed. And her thought came, clear as a bell. 【Maya wasn't even hurt. I saw her. She paid that driver. It was all a setup. She staged the whole thing... just to get back in the house.】 My mother's and father's faces turned to stone. My father turned to the assistant. "Tell the doctors to stop all treatment." 3 I woke up in the pool house. It was cold. A cot was set up in the corner, surrounded by dusty pool equipment. Through the sliding glass door, I could see the main house. I could see her. A maid wouldn't let me out until my mother was gone for the day. The moment I stepped outside, a black cat darted out and hissed, raking its claws down my already-cut cheek. I screamed, falling back, shaking. The staff just watched. "Shadow! Get away from that! You'll get sick!" Claire ran out and scooped up the cat. "Good kitty," she cooed. "Don't touch dirty things. It's disgusting." She handed the cat to a maid. "Take him inside. He needs a bath." She shot me a look of pure hatred and walked away. "Disinfect this area," she called over her shoulder. "And burn that cot." I lay on the cold cement floor of the pool house, gnawing on a stale piece of bread a maid had thrown in. I didn't care. I was here. I was close to her. I was never allowed to be seen. So I snuck out every morning and picked the most perfect, dew-covered rose from the garden and left it by her bedroom door. Then I would hide in the bushes to watch her find it. She had a piano in a glass room overlooking the garden. She looked like an angel when she played. I was lost in the music, hiding in the hydrangeas, and she suddenly looked up, right at me. She'll be mad she saw me. I scrambled backward, tripped, and fell into the deep end of the pool. The water was ice cold. It filled my lungs. But I didn't scream. I didn't fight. If I made a sound, she would find me. And I'd never get to watch her again. I woke up coughing. The gardener had pulled me out. "You crazy, kid? You were drowning! Why didn't you make a sound?" He was a kind man. But I just clutched my shirt, terrified he'd tell. The wound on my side, from the car, was still healing. The pool water infected it. I was burning up with fever. But the next morning, I crawled out to the garden. I had to get her flower. I had just placed it on the doormat when the door opened. It was Claire. She looked at the flower, and her breath hitched. Her face turned red. She collapsed, wheezing. My mother ran out. And Claire’s thought was a siren. 【Why? She knows I’m allergic! She knows roses will kill me! I told her I wouldn’t fight her for Mom! Why is she trying to hurt me?】 My mother’s eyes turned red. She lunged at me, her hands clamping around my throat. "Why?" she screamed, squeezing. "Why are you always trying to hurt my family? You monster!" But I'm your family, too... I was blacking out. I feebly held up the second-best rose. "For... you..." She slapped it out of my hand, scooped up Claire, and ran inside, crushing the rose I’d left on the mat. I lay on the ground, gasping. My father came home early. He found me there. He grabbed me by the shirt and dragged me to the front gate, throwing me onto the street. His eyes were murderous. "If you ever come near my family again, I will kill you. Do you understand?" I was too sick to even nod. My throat was on fire. Two maids walked by, heading for their bus. "Heard that little freak tried to poison Miss Claire. Nearly killed her." "And Mrs. Montgomery... her depression is back. She almost jumped from the balcony." "That kid is a curse." I couldn't move. I just lay on the pavement, waiting to die. At dusk, Claire came out. She looked down at me. "Why aren't you dead yet?" She smiled. "You're so stupid. I’m not even allergic. A little Benadryl, and I'm fine. I knew Mom would flip. I got you thrown out when you were a baby, and I can do it again." She whistled. Two Dobermans bounded out of the gate. They pinned me down, growling, their hot breath on my face. I was too terrified to even cry. Their teeth sank into my arm. My leg. I heard something snap. They were tearing at me, pulling me apart. I was going to die. I closed my eyes. And then I saw her. On the balcony of the main house. My mother. She was watching. "Mommy..." I whispered. She just stood there, her face blank. She didn't move. She didn't scream. She just watched. And for the first time, I felt... nothing. Mommy, why won't you smile at me? Mommy, why won't you hug me? Mommy... why won't you save me?
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