Chapter 4

The next morning, I woke up with a chilling sense of purpose. I walked into the living room and saw the water bottle sitting on the table, a silent testament to the previous night's events.

My mother was in the kitchen. "Sarah, you're up early. Are you going to look for work today?" she asked, her tone already accusatory.

"I will," I said, my voice calm. I picked up the water bottle. "I'm just going to have some water first."

I saw Buddy lift his head from his bed. His tail gave a slow, deliberate wag. He was watching me, waiting.

I unscrewed the cap and lifted the bottle towards my lips. I held it there for a long moment, my eyes locked on the dog. I saw the anticipation in his gaze, the malevolent glee.

Then I lowered the bottle without drinking and poured the entire thing down the kitchen sink.

"The water tastes stale," I said simply, rinsing the bottle out.

The change in Buddy was instantaneous. The happy dog facade vanished. A low, frustrated growl rumbled in his chest. His plan had failed.

But I had underestimated his cunning.

He started to whine, a pathetic, painful sound. He stumbled off his bed and collapsed onto the floor, his body starting to twitch. Foamy saliva began to bubble from his mouth.

"Buddy!" my mother screamed, rushing to his side. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

My father ran in from the bedroom, his eyes wide with panic. "What did you do?" he roared, turning on me.

"I didn't do anything," I said, my voice steady.

But Buddy was putting on the performance of a lifetime. He writhed on the floor, his paws scrabbling at his mouth as if he' d eaten something poisonous. His eyes, full of fake agony, were fixed on me.

Then he did something brilliant and evil. He let out a weak cough and vomited a small amount of bile onto the floor. And right there, in the middle of it, were the half-dissolved remains of a dark, leafy plant.

My mother gasped. "That's... that's from the oleander bush outside! It's poisonous!"

Her eyes shot to me, full of pure hatred. "You! You did this! You poisoned him because you were jealous!"

"I didn't touch him," I said, backing away.

"Liar!" my father shouted. He grabbed the empty water bottle from the sink. "You tried to give it to him in here, didn't you? When we weren't looking!"

It was a perfect frame-up. There was no way to prove my innocence. They wouldn't listen to reason. Their minds were already made up.

My father lunged at me. He was never a big man, but rage gave him a terrifying strength. He backhanded me across the face, the force of the blow sending me crashing into the kitchen counter. My head hit the corner with a sickening thud. The room spun, and spots danced in my vision.

"You ungrateful monster!" he screamed, his face inches from mine. "He gave us love! All you give us is trouble and expense!"

My mother was on the floor, cradling the now-limp dog in her arms, sobbing. "We have to get him to the vet, Mark! Hurry!"

My father gave me one last look of utter disgust, then helped my mother lift the dog. "You stay here," he spat. "If he dies, Sarah, I swear to God, I'll kill you myself."

They rushed out of the apartment, leaving me crumpled on the floor. My head was throbbing, and I could taste blood in my mouth. The physical pain was immense, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my heart.

He had called me a monster. He had looked at me as if I were something vile he wanted to scrape off his shoe. And he had done it all for that thing.

I pushed myself up, my body groaning in protest. I looked at the spot on the floor where Buddy had faked his seizure. A deep, dark resolve settled over me. There would be no more tests, no more attempts to reason with the unreasonable.

They had chosen him. They had hurt me for him, abandoned me for him, and now, they would kill for him.

I had tried to be the daughter. I had tried to be the victim. Now, it was time to be the monster they thought I was.

I walked over to the window and watched them disappear down the street, carrying their precious burden.

Buddy lifted his head from my mother's arms. He looked up at my window, and even from that distance, I could see his triumphant smirk.

"Enjoy the trip," I whispered to the empty room. "It'll be your last."