“Give back whatever you took from your sister. Now!” her stepmother ordered.
“I didn’t take anything from her. She’s lying,” Riley protested. “Again.”
As their mother stepped forward, ready to strike, Riley quickly stepped back and realized she was ready. “I won’t let you hit me this time. I’m done with both of you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not my mother,” Riley said, holding eye contact with her step-mother. “If you think because father isn’t here anymore that I won’t defend myself from any of you, you’re fucking wrong. I’m not a kid. You hit me, and I’ll hit you back.”
Instead of arguing, though, her stepmother had smiled and stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re right. I’m not your mother, thank God. Be grateful I put up with you as long as I did, and that was only because I loved your father. You were a necessary complication, nothing more. Now, you’re just a tenant I can’t manage to evict.”
From her place on the sideline, Lydia spoke. “It shouldn’t be a problem now, Mom. Father isn’t here, and this is our house, so why should his daughter stay if he’s gone?” Smiling at her mother, she turned to Riley, her eyes darkening. “Nobody wants you here. You’re just a waste of space, Riley.”
Before she could consider a response, Riley’s fist had connected with the side of Lydia’s head, knocking her half-sister to the floor.
Instantly, a bony hand closed around Riley’s arm, jerking it with almost enough force to remove her shoulder from its socket and dragging her from the room. She protested, but her stepmother had caught her off guard and had an advantage. In the next bedroom, the woman produced an old walking stick from the closet and began to beat Riley with it; first a blow to her jaw, then her stomach, legs, and back.
Riley had been slapped before, many times, but the woman had never used anything other than hands to hurt her.
“No one hits my daughter!” she shouted, each syllable bringing another strike.
Footsteps thundered in the hall, and seconds later, Lydia was in the doorway. “Mom! Stop! You’re going to kill her!” It was the first time Riley had heard Lydia say something on her behalf, and she was grateful for her sister’s presence.
Startled, her stepmother hesitated, and Riley seized the opportunity to knock the walking stick away as she wiped away her tears and tried to stand, despite the throbbing in her left knee. Lydia stepped between Riley and her mother, only to be pushed aside.
“Get out of my house. Now! I don’t want to see you again,” her stepmother ordered
Riley nodded and fought the pain to stand. Lydia stepped forward to offer a hand, but was slapped aside—now she might see her mother for who she truly was in Riley’s absence. When Riley finally reached the doorway, she turned to see Lydia clutching her bleeding nose.
Perhaps Lydia wasn’t entirely deplorable, but Riley was sure she would never see her half-sister again. If Lydia only hated her, why had she stepped to Riley’s defense and aid?
As she descended the stairs and walked through the front door with nothing but the clothes on her back, Riley vowed never to return to LinHill. It might have been a beautiful town, but the memories and scars she’d carry with her were dark, and the wounds ran deep.
Riley looked at her surroundings as she walked through the street surrounded by big trees and whitewashed houses, some of them with picket fences and others made of steel. She remembered how small it was growing up, with the square surrounded by wooden benches, a decaying fountain, and enough space for the kids to run and play. It momentarily transported her to much simpler childhood days, where everything she had to worry about was school, play with her friends, and homework. Though at times it was complicated with the decaying relationship with her stepmother, it wasn’t something Riley couldn’t get over with the help of her friends. But little did she know her path was going to take a whole different direction with an unexpected ending to the craziest, most amazing chapters of her life.
In the city, though, she was more than cared for, loved, even, and she felt increasingly comfortable with her surroundings each day. She wasn’t supposed to stay there long, but days turned into weeks, then months, then five whole years—the best ones of her life.
Except for the tears, and the blood that would mark her for the rest of her years.
Riley walked a few steps more, dragging her luggage behind her. The wheeled suitcase was heavier than she had imagined, and she wondered just how many things Mickey had packed for her, but she was sure it wasn’t just clothing.
Her old house looked the same as she remembered. Then again, how much could a house change in a few years? The sapphire blue from the outside was as beautiful as always; it was as though the years hadn’t passed at all. Someone was doing a very good job with it, keeping it clean, less somber than it was supposed to be after everything that she went through inside.
Looking at it, nobody would ever guess that the first wave of violence Riley had experienced had happened right inside this house, and at the hands of someone she thought cared about her.
Riley didn’t even think about knocking; she figured it might be a waste of time since the woman living inside would most likely call the police and have her arrested rather than letting her in.
Instead she pushed her luck and searched for the hidden key her mother used to leave on a flower pot. Sure enough she found it; there were things that never changed. She
