Chapter 2
Even some of the journalists nearby began to protest indignantly.
“Exctly! A child like this shouldn’t be forced on the victim! Taking her home would only cause further harm!”
I stood there in a daze, utterly at a loss, my whole body stiff and numb.
I hung my head. In my line of sight were the scuffed toes of my mother’s worn–out sneakers, and right next to them, the pristine,
stylish sneakers of the boy–my brother Ethan.
The buzzing in my head still hadn’t stopped. It ached faintly.
I stuffed my trembling hands into my pockets, not daring to take so much as a step closer to her.
Despite the protests from the journalists and the Millers, the outcome remained unchanged.
In the end, the police handed me over to the Millers, placing me firmly in their custody.
My mom refused to so much as glance at me again. Clutching my ten–year–old brother’s hand, she slid into the back seat of the black
car.
A wave of panic seized me, and I scrambled after her. But she didn’t let me in. Instead, she shut the door right in my face,
My uncle, David, paid me no mind either. He was about to get into the car himself when an officer stepped forward and stopped him.
Uncle David let out a cold laugh, his eyes filled with fury and hatred.
He walked to the rear of the car, popped the trunk open, and shot me a look of icy didain. “Get in.”
For a heartbeat, I was stunned–and then, feeling unexpectedly honored and thrilled, I ran over, both eager and anxious.
Before climbing in, I carefully took off my worn–out sneakers, afraid of soiling the pristine interior.
I had never ridden in a car before.
I curled up tightly in the cramped space and dared a cautious glance up at him, perhaps still hoping for a shred of acceptance.
Instead, I saw the police watching him with open disapproval.
Uncle David snorted with deision. “What? Is there a law against a child riding in the trunk?”
The officer frowned, but in the end, he said nothing more.
Uncle David lifted a hand. With a heavy thud, the lid slammed shut. And my world went pith black.
