Chapter 3

The living room fell quiet.

Inside the bedroom, I could faintly hear Sofia's sniffling and Owen's hushed comforting.

The overturned coffee table lay on the floor, with glass shards scattering over trash.

The rash on my arms had spread rapidly. It crept from my wrists to my forearms. The itch and pain made it feel like countless ants were digging beneath my skin.

It itched so intensely that I almost ground my molars to dust.

The lingering reek of cheap perfume mixed with the foul stench of trash made my skin flare up more with every breath.

I couldn't handle this much longer.

I crouched and set the trash bin upright first.

My fingers paused when I picked up the title deed. A bit of fruit pulp stained the paper, so I wiped it clean with my sleeve.

I stared at it. My name—Emilia Carter—was still there, clear and bold.

Tucking the deed into my pocket, I went back to cleaning up.

My hands began to shake. It wasn't out of anger. A deep, weak tremor was rising from inside my bones. The allergic reaction was taking over.

Using my knees for support, I pushed myself up and stumbled over to the cabinet to dig out my pill bottle.

My hands trembled so violently that it took three tries just to twist the cap open. I shook out two pills, but one slipped from my fingers and fell onto the floor.

When I bent down to grab it, my vision went dark for a second. Without bothering to blow off the dust, I shoved it straight into my mouth and swallowed it dry.

I slid down against the cabinet and sat on the floor, waiting for the effects of the medicine to kick in.

As the rash on my arms slowly subsided, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.

After three breaths, my mind cleared up all at once.

This was my house. My name was on the deed, making me the rightful owner.

Why were those two lying in my bedroom while I sat on the living room floor taking medicine?

At that thought, I stood up and headed upstairs.

The master bedroom door was shut. I raised my leg and kicked it hard. "Owen Carter, get your ass out here and explain yourself!"

But there was no response from within.

I slammed my palm against the door twice more until it went numb. "This is my house! You two pieces of trash. Get the hell out! Right now!"

The air behind the door briefly went quiet before Sofia's voice floated out. "Owen, she's so loud. She's scaring me. My stomach hurts again..."

Owen's heavy footsteps stomped across the floor, coming right up behind the door. "Emilia, kick it one more time and see what happens!"

He kicked the door right back from his side, making the entire frame rattle violently.

A pang of heartache surged through me, and I tightened my fists.

Grandma had picked this red oak door. On the day it was installed, she stroked it repeatedly, telling me how solid it was and how it would last for decades.

Now, his kick left the door shaking, leaving a clear footprint behind.

Just as I raised my hand to bang on it again, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

The screen lit up with an incoming call from Mom.

Perfect. I should let Mom and Dad see what Owen was doing.

I picked up. "Mom, you need to hear this—"

Before I could finish speaking, Mom barked right into my ear, "Emilia Carter, what the hell are you doing? Throwing a tantrum at Owen? Have you lost your mind?"

"I didn't! Owen brought his girlfriend over and hit—"

Dad cut me off outright. "Enough! Quit fighting. Stop bothering your grandma with stupid issues about the house."

I froze. "What?"

"Your grandma had a fall. She had a fall while out getting groceries a few days ago and is currently in the hospital."

Dad's tone was stern, and every single word landed in my ears like a blow. "You're her favorite. If you keep throwing a fit and her blood pressure spikes when she finds out, are you going to take responsibility?"

My fingers tightened around the phone, turning icy cold. "Which hospital? I'm coming over right now—"

"Don't bother." Mom's voice took over again, cold enough to feel like a slap across the face.

"Just stay home and behave yourself. Mind your own business and stop provoking Owen. Your grandma is still waiting for a great-grandchild. Don't waste all the love she gave you. If you anger her into something worse, you can't afford the consequences."

The call then disconnected. The dial tone beeped endlessly while I stood in the hallway holding my phone.

My mind went completely blank.

How could Grandma, the person who loved me the most, be in the hospital?

My chest tightened as if a fist were squeezing it.

I immediately dialed Grandma's number, only to be told that it had been powered off.

I sent her text after text on WhatsApp. "Grandma, what happened?

"Grandma, which hospital are you in?

"Grandma, answer me!"

But none of my messages received a reply.

I dug out our neighbor Paulina Pugh's number and called her. She said she hadn't seen Grandma in days.

After hanging up, I collapsed into a crouch in the hallway, my back pressed against the wall.

I slid helplessly onto the floor.

They knew that Grandma was my only weakness. Now they were using her to force me into submission!