Chapter 1 - THE DOOR DID NOT OPEN
The door did not open. It exploded inward so hard the frame cracked and the photo beside my dresser jumped off the wall. For one disoriented second, I thought I was still dreaming. Then the hall light slashed across my bed, and my brother Aaron crossed the room like he had already decided what would happen next. He grabbed a fistful of my hair before I could sit up, yanked me off the mattress, and dragged me so fast my shoulder clipped the nightstand and sent my lamp crashing to the floor. The bulb burst with a sharp white flash, and then everything was shadow, hallway light, and pain.
“Get up, crazy little liar,” Aaron snarled. “Let’s see who believes you tonight.”
I clawed at his wrist with both hands. “Aaron, stop. Please.”
He dragged me into the hallway anyway. My knees tangled in the blanket, and my breath came in short, ugly sounds I hated hearing from myself. That was when I saw my father. Douglas Kensington stood in the hall in pajama pants and an old college T-shirt, one hand resting against the wall, smiling as if he had front-row seats to a show he had been waiting to see.
“Look at this,” he said with a low laugh. “Madison at it again. Always the victim.”
That sentence landed harder than Aaron’s hand. It carried every year of my life inside it. Every bruise explained away. Every argument turned into my fault. Every holiday where I was expected to apologize for ruining the mood after being humiliated in front of everyone.
Aaron shoved me into the wall so hard my cheek scraped drywall. “Say you’re sorry.”
“For what?” I gasped.
That was always the one question they never answered.
He dragged me through the hallway and into the living room. My hip struck the coffee table. Something slid across the glass and dropped beside my hand.
My phone.
May you like
Aaron saw it too. He smiled.
“Call someone,” he said. “Let’s see who believes you this time.”
