CHAPTER 1
ALEX
Rocking back and forth on my closet floor, I listened as my brother banged on his bedroom wall, begging my mother to let me out. I had spent most of my life in this closet, so I carved out a space in the corner.
It wasn’t a matter of if but when I would find myself in the same spot again. I only had to breathe wrong for my mother to snap. Just the sight of me turned her into a crazed lunatic.
In the dark, your eyes naturally adjust. The pupil’s muscles expand, allowing more light into the eyes. I could see the secondhand clothes hanging above my head and the sneakers with worn soles beside me. We had only the bare essentials.
Most of the clothes were too tight, and the pants were too short. I had outgrown them four years ago, but my mother loved embarrassing me. She often commented on my appearance and laughed in my face.
I tugged on a frayed piece of carpeting to calm my nerves and closed my eyes. It would all be over soon. Eventually, she would grow bored with my brother’s screams and unlock my closet door.
“Let her out, you bitch,” Aiden shouted at our mother, slamming his fist into the wall, also locked in his bedroom.
He was the lucky one.
My mother didn’t hate my twin like she did me. He could roam around his room while I sat in the closet like an old, broken toy.
“Open this door,” Aiden demanded. “I swear to God, Mom. I will kill you if you touch a hair on her head.”
The doorbell rang.
No one ever came to our house.
My mother didn’t allow me to have friends. It wasn’t like anyone at school wanted to befriend me, anyway. I wore ratty, used clothes and lived in the ugliest house in town.
Boys at school said I was pretty for white trash. They also said I could sell my ass if I’d fatten up.
“Savanna,” a deep voice boomed, one I did not recognize. “Get out of my way, or I will throw you down the stairs.”
“No,” my mother told him. “You can’t have them. Alex and Aiden are mine.”
“Do you want your inheritance?”
What inheritance?
We lived on food stamps and charity from the church, even though my mother didn’t believe in God.
“Hand them over,” the man said.
“Dad, she’s worthless.” My mother’s voice was hoarse from all the chain-smoking. “Trust me. You don’t want her. Alex is… problematic. She has a sickness inside her.”
How dare she?
Anger flared inside my chest, blooming like a rose with sharp thorns. In her eyes, everything was my fault.
“Go downstairs,” the man growled. “I don’t want to see your face. You make me sick.”
My bedroom door creaked open, and then the closet. A massive man with white hair, dressed in a black suit, stood before me. He looked more like a king from a fairy tale than a real person.
He bent down and extended his hand. “Hello, Alexandrea. I’m your grandfather.”
My mom said her parents had died in a tragic accident. She claimed we had no family other than her and my dad.
I took his hand, and he helped me out of the closet. “What’s your name?”
“Carl,” he said with a smile. “But you can call me Pops.”
