Chapter 2

The crisp morning air vibrated with a sense of possibility as I walked onto campus. My thoughts were a warm embrace, focused on the incredible support system I had in my friends, Anna and Jaime. It felt like a safety net, a constant reassurance. "Hey Anna!" I called out, spotting her familiar figure patiently waiting by the lockers.

She turned, a relieved smile washing over her face. "Thank God you're here. I feared that I might be alone," Anna replied, her voice laced with anxiety.

My brow furrowed. "Why? Where's Jaime?"

Anna's eyes widened, and she spoke softly, "Oh my God, didn't you know? She had an accident and broke her leg."

"An accident?" I exclaimed, concern tightening my chest.

"Yes, but nothing serious, though. I was thinking about visiting her. Let's go together, okay?" she suggested, a flicker of hope in her eyes.

My heart longed to be there for Jaime, but a familiar knot of dread settled in my stomach. "But... I... you know I can't be late at home."

Anna sighed, understanding in her gaze. "I know, I know, but let's go fast and come back. Your stepmother won't know."

"Okay?" she urged.

"Mhm," I muffled, my internal battle still raging.

The weight of my stepmother's rigid rules felt like a constant pressure. After college, we hurried towards Jaime's house, my mind racing, trying to track the minutes against an invisible clock. Although Jaime's house wasn't far, the thought of offending my stepmother loomed large.

We entered Jaime's living room, and there she was, propped up on the couch with her leg in a cast. "Oh my gosh, guys! I didn't expect you to be here so soon!" Jaime exclaimed, her face lighting up with genuine joy.

"But what happened?" I asked, my worry still lingering.

"Nothing to be worried about," Jaime reassured, then called out, "Mom!" Her mother quickly appeared in the living room. "Look, my friends are here," Jaime beamed.

We gave her mother an innocent smile. "Sit down, kids. I'll make some coffee," she offered warmly.

"No, no, no, I have to go now," I replied quickly, glancing at the time, then turning towards Jaime. "You know, I can't offend my stepmom, right?"

"Yeah, but still..." Jaime said, a tiny note of disappointment creeping into her voice.

"Wait!" Jaime exclaimed, an idea sparking in her eyes. "Mom, take that cake so she can eat it on the bus." Her mother, understanding, hurried to the kitchen and returned with a lunchbox filled with slices of cake.

"Thank you," I said to Jaime's mom, a genuine warmth washing over me. Then, I turned and practically ran out the door, determined to make it home before disaster struck.

Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I was two minutes late. The moment I stepped inside, my stepmother's wrath descended. A stinging blow from a hanger landed on my back, followed by another, and another. After the traumatic beating, she coldly ordered me to clean the cow dung from the shed, her voice dripping with disdain.

As I toiled in the dimly lit shed, the pungent smell filling my nostrils, a car pulled into the driveway. It was my dad. He was back from the Gulf, a surprise visit. My stepmother, seeing him, panicked. Her eyes widened and she bolted towards the front of the house to intercept him.

"Hey, it's been a long time!" she called out to him, her voice a forced sweetness, attempting to appear welcoming. "Belle!" she then called to my stepsister. "Come out, your dad's here."

Belle, her face alight with excitement, rushed out to greet her stepfather. My stepmother gestured wildly at her, signaling for her to somehow distract my dad and keep him from entering the house. She then ran inside to find me, her face a mask of anxiety.

She grabbed me, shoving an assortment of gaudy jewellery in my hands. "Put these on!" she hissed. "You need to look presentable for your father. He mustn't see what you're doing. He mustn't know."

I fumbled with the heavy, unfamiliar pieces, feeling a deep sense of humiliation. Belle, however, was unable to hold back my father. He stepped inside, his smile fading as his gaze fell on me in the manure-filled shed.The carefully constructed facade my stepmother had so diligently maintained crumbled, revealing the truth she had desperately tried to hide.