Chapter 10

10

M y mouth drops open at the size of the bathroom. It's triple the size of the one in my apartment, and I thought it was a good size, but this is something out of a designer magazine.

A spa bath is in the far corner of the room. On the other side is a shower with a large showerhead the size of a huge-ass dinner plate hanging from the ceiling. White tiles shine on every side. It's stunning, and I feel special having the privilege to use these amenities.

A dark cloud settles above me as I consider what this luxury could mean.

The underworld has sure been nice to my grandmother.

Was all this bought and built with blood money?

Giving my head a quick shake, I push that thought clear from my mind and debate between the shower and the spa bath. The shower wins this time.

I turn on the hot water and place my clothes on the basin countertop. Looking up, I stare at my reflection in the mirror—dark hair and dark rings under my dark eyes from lack of sleep last night. My grandmother's words, "You look like your mother," come to mind, and I wonder if that's true.

The girl before me is a broken piece of who she once was. Six months ago, I was sleeping under a bridge with nothing going for me. I couldn't seem to get a job to support myself. In some way, I think I should be thanking Hunter. He gave me a second chance at life.

Only it's not the life I wanted.

"Who are you?" I ask the girl in the mirror.

I stand there for a moment, the steam fogging up the mirror. Slowly, my reflection fades away until I'm just a blurry figure. A nothing. No one. Yet, Hunter thinks I'm someone important.

I step away from the mirror, not wanting to face any more truths, tug my shirt over my head, and strip off my pants. I open the shower door and test the temperature—scalding and perfect.

As I move under the large showerhead, the droplets heat my skin. The clear water runs over the lines and curves of my body.

I glance around the stall until I spot a pink bottle. Picking it up, I see it's a cherry blossom body wash and get to work, lathering my body with it. The smell is divine and fresh. Never have I used anything so beautiful.

As soon as I finish scrubbing away all the dirtiness, I don't have the energy to wash my hair, so I sit on the tiled floor under the flowing water. It's refreshing and cleansing. I pull my legs up to my chest, wrap my arms around them, and place my head on my knees.

After what feels like a lifetime, the door flies open. My head flicks up, and Hunter stands there.

"What do you want? Can't you just leave me alone?" I mutter, my tone deadpan and eerily calm.

Hunter quickly turns around to face the door. "Oh, sorry. I knocked, and you didn't answer. I thought something had happened to you."

My head swims a little when I stand, but not enough to make me off-balance. "I didn't hear you. I'll get out now."

I watch him walk out, and as the door shuts, the moment it clicks, a familiar feeling weaves its way through my soul. An emptiness has settled into my mind, like a dark storm cloud has purposely taken away what light I had there. It reminds me of my childhood.

The homes I stayed in, the foster parents who had me, who never wanted me. I was just a money pit for them. I was nothing. My bed was a thin camping mattress while their own kids would reap the rewards of my care money with fancy new toys and gadgets they didn't need, even though I suffered.

It wasn't just me, though. There were more kids in those houses in the same position. I wish I could change that part of this country's government. Not all are bad, but some don't know any other way to make a difference so no more kids will suffer like I did. I wonder if my grandmother thought about the ramifications of her actions.

Did any of my sisters end up with a bad family?

I can't help but wonder what their lives have been like.

When I shut off the shower, the cool air hits my skin, causing goose bumps. Stepping onto the mat, I grab the softest towel I have ever used from the rack. Mine are all scratchy, old, and worn. I've never had good things. I was always told I was dirty and would amount to nothing.

How different my life would have been if I'd grown up in this house, in this underworld, as they call it. Would it be as big of a mess as it is now, or would it be better? Would Hunter be a completely different person than who he is now?

There's no way to tell.

* * *

After I get dressed, I leave the bedroom and head down the hallway. Judging from the aroma, something delicious is cooking. It makes my mouth water.

I look up and down the wooden-walled hallway. There are three closed doors, which I assume are more bedrooms. Turning left, the hall opens up into an open-plan living area. The kitchen is to my right, and a dining table and chairs are to the left. It's like something out of a fairy tale.

The walls are the same wood as my bedroom, and cream tiles line the floor with large rugs in the living area in front of the couch.

Looking for Hunter, he and Landon are nowhere to be seen.

Good, maybe he finally listened and left.

May's head pops out from what must be the pantry. "Hello, dear. How are you feeling?" She smiles softly.

I fold my arms over my chest as a chill runs through me. "I'm okay."

May sets some spices she was holding on the kitchen counter and comes at me with open arms. It's like the dam wall has crumbled away, my bottom lip trembling, and tears sting my eyes. I can't hold back all the emotions wreaking havoc on me.

May's arms wrap securely around me. "It's okay, dear child. I've got you now," she repeatedly says, trying to soothe me.

The cries that tear from my throat are years of feeling unworthy of anything good. With each sob, May rubs my back and assures me it's okay.

When the sobs stop, it's as though I've cried away a lifetime of troubles, as if I've released all the demons I had been holding on to. May's hold on me loosens, and she moves back, but her hands rest on my shoulders. Facing her, tears also stream down her pink-colored cheeks.

"I'm sorry." I sob as I wipe away the wetness on my face.

"Oh, my dear, you have nothing to be sorry about. It is me who should be sorry. I should never have left you at the hospital. I thought you would have gone to a good home." Her voice shakes as she speaks, and more tears silently roll down her cheeks.

I'm not sure what to say, so I keep quiet. Things have happened so fast that I haven't been able to process it all yet.

"I know this must be hard for you. We have plenty of time to talk about things. If you want to take a seat, I'm just finishing up dinner." She glances over her shoulder, and I follow her gaze. "Oh no, please don't let the bottom of the pot be burned." She lets go of me and rushes to the pot bubbling on the cooktop. Then she quickly, yet gently, pulls it from the burner.

"That smells really nice," I say.

"Thank you. It's an old family recipe. I call it Nanna Red's beef hot pot." I smile at the name. "It's good to see you smile." She grins back. "I'll go get the boys, and we can eat." She sets off through what could be a back door. As she opens it, I catch a glimpse of a large barn and some garden beds.

My gaze moves over the area again. Pictures on the fireplace catch my eye, so I make my way over for a closer look. There are old photos, photos of couples, and baby photos—five tiny faces in separate frames. I can pick out the boys as they have blue blankets on them, and the girls have pink ones.

"Those are your siblings, my grandchildren." May's gentle voice comes up behind me, and she places a hand on my shoulder. Leaning past me, she picks up one of the girl's images. "This is you."