Chapter 4

"Tubby was the only thing my parents left me," I sobbed.

Lonnie's stern expression softened slightly as he cast a complex gaze my way.

Maxine's voice, pitiful yet deliberate, broke the moment. "Olivia, Tubby was already on the verge of death. He was so old. I just thought… I thought it would be better for him to serve one last purpose and help nurse you back to health. It's for your own good. But if you're upset, I'll make it right—I'll trade my life for Tubby's!"

As she spoke, she grabbed a knife from the counter, aiming it at herself.

Lonnie was quick, snatching the blade from her hand.

"Maxine! This isn't your fault!"

"Let me die, Lonnie! It's the only way Olivia won't hate me anymore!"

Maxine's anguished cries filled the room as Lonnie wrestled the knife away and pulled her into a protective embrace while she bawled her eyes out.

Then, he turned to me, his eyes blazing. "Olivia! Do you even have a heart? Maxine's willing to go this far, and yet all you care about is a dog! What, would you only be satisfied if she actually died?"

I had no words to defend myself, nor the courage to try.

I could only stand there, silent tears streaming down my face, as they performed their melodrama.

Maxine had won. I was miserable now, utterly broken. I wondered if she would be laughing about this at night, reveling in my pain.

"It's been three months, and you're still like this. Do you want someone to drag you off for another three months?" Lonnie's voice cut through the room, sharp as a blade.

The moment he spoke, my body froze with fear. I immediately dropped to my knees, frantically cleaning up the mess I'd made moments earlier.

I begged, "I'm sorry, Mr. Vaughn. I'm sorry, Ms. Dittman. This is all my fault. I promise to do better. Please, don't be angry. I'll clean it all up right away."

I couldn't endure another nightmare like that.

When those men had taken me, they'd driven nails—thick and sharp—straight through my wrists and ankles, pinning me to a wooden post.

The marks they left were still there, deep, dark reminders of my helplessness.

They'd stripped me bare, doused me in filthy water, and said I was unclean, that they needed to "wash" me. Over and over, they scrubbed my skin raw with coarse wire brushes until it was red and bleeding. Only then did they move on to their next atrocity.

I screamed and struggled, but none of it mattered. For three months, I had endured their cruelty.

By the second month, I managed to grab a phone when they weren't paying attention. I dialed Lonnie.

"Lonnie, help me! Please, come save me!" My voice trembled with desperation.

There was a brief silence on the other end before he replied in a cold, detached voice, "Olivia, you're disgusting. If you come back, you'll only dirty the floors."

The line went dead.

And the torment only got worse.

Even now, whenever I closed my eyes, their faces haunted me. Some nights, I went days without sleep, too terrified of what would come if I let my guard down.

So how could I possibly defy Lonnie and Maxine now?

In this house, I was the filthiest, the lowest. Nothing more than a stain.

Lonnie scoffed at my frantic movements before draping his coat over Maxine's trembling shoulders with a gentleness he'd never once shown me.

"Maxine," he said in a soft and tender voice, "let's eat out tonight. I'll take you to your favorite restaurant, okay?"

She leaned into him effortlessly. "Alright. Thank you, Lonnie."

Then, as if remembering me, she glanced back with a look of false pity. "Olivia, enjoy the soup. Lonnie and I will head out first."