Chapter 1 – The Anniversary
LENA>>>
Sweat burned my eyes as I scrubbed another filthy plate. My arms were dead. Fingers wrinkled and bleeding. The pile in front of me felt endless.
I hadn't slept. I hadn't bathed. I hadn't even brushed my teeth.
Last night, I was cooking. Then cleaning. Just when I tried to catch a second of sleep, Lyra stormed in, yanked off my blanket, and hissed,
"Get up. You think you deserve rest?"
Now here I was-still working.
It was my adopted parents' anniversary. Not like I was invited. I wasn't even allowed near the guests. Just stuck in the back, scrubbing dishes.
A loud clatter yanked me back to reality. More dishes. More mess.
"Wash these too," snapped one of the caterers. She didn't wait for a reply-just dumped them and walked off.
Two younger women followed, dumping even more greasy plates beside me.
"Why are you so slow?" the woman barked. "You haven't even started the real work."
I nodded. No excuse. No strength.
She turned to leave, then stopped. "Finish in fifteen minutes. After that, you'll be serving the guests."
I froze.
"Fifteen?" I whispered. "I still have dessert to prepare. There are over three hundred plates-"
She spun around, eyes full of fire. "You think I care?"
I lowered my gaze. "I'm just asking if someone else could help-so nothing gets delayed."
She stepped forward. "You're not here to ask. You're here to shut up and work-for free, like always. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Finish in fifteen minutes. No excuses." She slammed the door so hard it shook the walls.
I stood there, heartbeat racing. Then I got back to work.
Faster.
The hot water burned. My fingers throbbed. My back screamed. But I kept going. I had no choice.
Then-
BANG.
The door flew open.
My stomach dropped. It was her. My adopted mother.
"Why aren't you done?" she snarled.
"I-I tried. There's too much. I'm sorry-"
She didn't let me finish. She grabbed my head and slammed it into the wall.
White-hot pain exploded in my skull.
Everything blurred. My knees gave out. I clung to the table with blood running down my face.
I reached up. My hand came back red.
She just stood there, breathing heavy, like she wanted to hit me again.
"Stupid girl," she spat. "This is why your real parents died. They knew you'd be a failure. That's why they left you."
My chest caved in wondering what brought my parents into what is happening.
"Please... don't say that," I whispered through the tears.
She leaned closer, eyes full of hate. "What will you do if I say it again? Huh? You want to go join them in the grave?"
"Maybe that's where you belong."
"No... please," I cried, shaking my head. "I'm not going to die. Just stop saying those things about them."
My adopted mother's eyes burned with rage.
"I'll never stop. Your parents killed themselves the moment they saw you-a cursed omega. They died because they couldn't live with the shame. And you? You should've died with them."
Then she spat on my face.
I didn't even flinch.
"Why?" I choked. "Why do you treat me like trash?"
She grabbed a fistful of my bloody hair and yanked my head back so hard I thought my scalp would rip off.
"You really want to know?" she hissed. "Because that's what you are. Trash. A cursed, worthless omega that never should've been born."