When the fire started, Mom grabbed Mia and Dad grabbed Leo. They ran outside, leaving me behind. My face was badly burned. After that, I changed. The sassy, demanding girl who was always fighting for a scrap of affection just… stopped. I was dying anyway. This tiny, leftover bit of love… they could give it to whoever they wanted. But then they regretted it. They held my skeletal hand and wept. "Lily, please," they begged, "just throw one more tantrum. Please?" 1 Mom held Mia. Dad carried Leo. They burst out of the smoke, collapsing on the lawn, sobbing and hugging, hysterical with relief. "Is everyone out?" a firefighter yelled, running up. Mom scrambled to her feet, doing a frantic headcount. She pointed: "Leo, Mia... yes, both kids are here! They're both safe!" "You're sure? No one else inside?" Mom's eyes were only for them. She didn't even answer, just pulled them closer, muttering, "Thank God, thank God, they're safe." That was when I stumbled out of the flames, clutching my mouth. Her words made me feel like a pathetic joke. I was charred black, my pajamas in smoking tatters. They, having gotten out first, were practically spotless. The words "both kids" hit me harder than the smoke. My legs gave out. I fell hard onto the driveway. The raw, burning pain across my back exploded. My name is Lily. I’ve always been the extra one. 2 "Leo, stop tickling me!" Minutes later, safe on the grass, Mia and Leo were already wrestling. Their laughter cut through the sirens, and I saw Mom and Dad's faces relax a little. But Mia slipped, and her hand landed—hard—directly on my burned back. "Ah!" I screamed. I could feel the bandages the EMT had just applied turn wet and sticky with fresh blood. Mia scrambled back, terrified, hiding behind Leo. "Lily!" Mom’s head snapped toward me, her voice sharp. "Stop it. Why are you screaming at your sister?" Her eyes met mine, and she flinched. The look of disgust was new. It must have been the burns on my face. She hadn't even seen me get hurt. She never saw me. I couldn't hold it in. I ran to the side of the ambulance, covered my face, and sobbed. They all just stood there, silent. When I finally quieted down, Mom brought Mia over. She sighed, reaching for my hand. I flinched away. Her hand froze in the air. "Lily, you have to understand," she said, that tired voice she always used on me. "We're not trying to hurt you. But Leo's got so much pressure with his college applications, and Mia's just so little..." I stared at her through my tears. "Can't you just be the good daughter, for once?" I laughed. It sounded like a cough. How... ridiculous. Mom saw me laugh and must have thought I'd calmed down. She grabbed my hand and tried to press Mia's into it. "There we go," she said, forcing a cheerful tone. "Now, you tell your sister you're sorry, and we can all move on. We're a family, after all." She was talking to me, but she was smiling at Mia, cooing at her. I ripped my hand away. Mom's face hardened. "I have three children, Lily," she said, her voice like a knife. "How did you end up being the only one who's so spoiled?" Right. Spoiled. I used to throw tantrums. I used to demand things. I had to. It was the only way to get them to even look at me. But now... I'm sick. I'm dying. I'm done fighting for scraps. 3 Our house was gone. We had to find a new place to live. "Finding a rental for five is a nightmare," Dad said, rubbing his temples. "We'll have to take two of the kids, and send the third to stay somewhere else for a while." As one, all four of them turned to look at me. I almost smiled. The old me would have screamed. I would have cried. I would have thrown the world’s biggest fit until they sighed and said, "Oh, Lily, what are we going to do with you? You’re so demanding." But Leo and Mia never had to demand anything. This time, I didn't make a sound. I just nodded, took a step back, and whispered, "I'll go." They all looked surprised. But no one argued. So I was sent to my Uncle Mark's. I had to walk on eggshells. At first, Aunt Sarah would give me a tight-lipped smile. But soon, they didn't bother. It didn't matter if I got up early and cleaned the whole kitchen, or if I collected cans after school for the deposit money and gave it to them. They just looked at me with that same sour expression. One afternoon, after I’d scrubbed their bathroom, I heard them talking. "When is she leaving?" Aunt Sarah whispered. "Just a few more weeks." "Ugh. Have you smelled her? That... burn smell. I feel like I have to disinfect the house every time she walks through. And honestly, Mark, another mouth to feed..." I looked down at my clothes. They hated when I used the shower. It "used up all the hot water." That night, at dinner, I put on my best, most casual smile. "Uncle Mark? Aunt Sarah? The guest room is a little drafty. I was thinking, maybe I could move into the basement? And I can just make my own meals, so you don't have to worry about me." I watched their faces. The tension just melted. "Oh, Lily, don't be silly," Aunt Sarah said, but she was already smiling. She even put a piece of chicken on my plate. "Here, eat up." 4 The basement was freezing. The wind whistled through the gaps in the door. The raw, itchy pain of my healing burns was a constant throb. I wrapped the thin, musty blanket tighter around myself. I was so thirsty. I hadn't had any water all day. I couldn't stand it anymore. I crept outside the basement door. A drainpipe was leaking, a small, grimy puddle on the concrete. A stray cat was lapping at it. I hesitated. But the thirst was scratching my throat raw. Dignity didn't seem that important. I got on my knees. The water was cold and tasted like rust, but it was wet. I finished and wiped my mouth, pulling myself up. And I saw him. My brother, Leo. Standing there, his face cold, watching me. How long had he been there? My first instinct was to run, to hide. "Get up," he said, his voice flat. "We're going home for Thanksgiving dinner." I flinched back, terrified he'd smell the basement on me. But he just scowled, grabbed my arm, and yanked. "Let's go." He dragged me to his car. I sat there, trembling, as we pulled up to a new house. A nice two-story rental with a small yard. They clearly weren't struggling. So why couldn't they have kept me? I didn't want to go in. I could hear them inside, laughing. Mom was calling Mia her "sweet baby girl." I didn't belong. Then, Mia's high-pitched voice. "Where's Lily?" The laughing stopped. Dead silence. Leo, beside me on the porch, didn't move. "Ugh," Mom's voice, sharp and cold. "She burned our house down. What is she even doing here? Let her in, I guess. We need to have a serious talk with her." My head whipped toward Leo. "You were there," I whispered, horrified. "You know it wasn't me. It was Mia, she was playing with..." "Shut up!" he hissed, his face instantly furious. I shrank back. I don't know when I became so terrified of loud noises. Of anger. "I'm sorry..." I whispered. His face got even colder. "Mia is sensitive. She's finally happy. Don't you dare ruin Thanksgiving. Does it really matter who started it?" It sounded like I wasn't his sister, too. I touched my own face, the tight, scarred skin. I nodded. "I can keep the secret." His expression softened, just a little. "Good. Come on, Mom and Dad wanted you here." I shook my head. "Can I just... have some money? I need to buy medicine." His face went hard again. The disgust was back. "Are you serious? You finally come home, and the first thing you do is ask for money? Do you have a heart?" He was yelling, but he reached into his wallet, pulled out a wad of crumpled twenties, and threw them at my feet. I didn't say anything. I just bent over to pick them up. Leo looked like he wanted to hit me. "That's it? You're not even going to fight back? God, you're pathetic." The old me would have screamed at him. I just held the money. Suddenly, a searing pain ripped through my stomach. My period. That cold, dirty water... "Please," I gasped, clutching my abdomen. "Can I just... have a glass of hot water? Please..." Seeing me doubled over, Leo actually smirked. He looked... satisfied. He didn't say a word. He just turned, walked inside, and slammed the door. Through the door, I heard him shout, "She's not coming in! Said she's too good for us!" The cramps hit me like a train. My legs buckled. I fell to my knees on the welcome mat, vomiting into the bushes. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the door swinging open, and their shocked faces.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "385740", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel