Chapter 4

I woke up to the beeping of machines and the sterile white of a hospital room. A doctor was shining a light in my eyes.

"Molly? Can you hear me?" he asked, his voice gentle.

I blinked, trying to focus. My head throbbed with a blinding pain.

"Your brother is going to be okay," the doctor said. "He has second-degree burns, but he's stable. We're more worried about you right now."

He held up an X-ray. "You have multiple stress fractures in both of your femurs and tibias. Your ribs show signs of both old and new bruising, and your head trauma has caused some internal bleeding. Molly, can you tell me what happened?"

Before I could answer, my mother stormed into the room, my father trailing behind her.

"What is this nonsense?" Debra demanded, snatching the chart from the doctor's hand. "Stress fractures? She's a drama queen, doctor. She's been seeking attention like this her whole life."

The doctor looked from my mother to me, his expression hardening. "Ma'am, these injuries are not consistent with a simple fall. They are consistent with prolonged, severe physical strain. And the head injury..."

"She's clumsy!" Debra interrupted. "She probably fell and hit her head after she deliberately hurt my son!"

Just then, my uncles arrived, their faces grim.

"We knew it," Uncle Anthony said, pointing a finger at me. "She hurt the kid to get back at us. To make us look bad. It's a classic manipulative tactic."

My mother's eyes widened, and she turned to me, her face a canvas of fury and belief. She saw the story she wanted to see.

"You monster," she hissed.

She lunged for my bed. With a violent jerk, she ripped the IV line out of my arm. Blood welled up, staining the white sheets.

"We're leaving," she announced. "I'm not paying for this hospital to entertain her fantasies."

The doctor and a nurse rushed forward. "Ma'am, you can't do that! She's in critical condition! It's against medical advice!"

"Get your hands off me!" Debra shrieked. "She's my daughter!"

My uncles moved in, blocking the medical staff. Caleb and Anthony grabbed my arms, hauling me out of the bed. The pain was so intense I screamed. They ignored me, dragging me out of the room, my bare feet scraping against the linoleum floor.

My father just stood there, his face pale, watching it happen.

They threw me in the back of their SUV and drove for what felt like hours, the tires crunching on a gravel road. We stopped in front of a secluded, dilapidated cabin deep in the woods.

They dragged me out of the car and toward a small, windowless shed.

"You want to act?" my mother screamed, her face inches from mine. "Fine. You can stay in here until you're ready to stop the act and tell the truth."

They shoved me inside. The air was frigid and smelled of damp earth and rot.

"No food. No water," Uncle Anthony's voice came from the other side of the door. "We'll be back when you've learned your lesson."

The heavy bolt slid into place, plunging me into absolute darkness. I was alone, bleeding, and freezing. The cold seeped into my bones, a deep, final chill.