Chapter 2
Rachel's POV
The night we got back from the restaurant, I spiked a fever.
Somatic depression didn't just wreck you emotionally—it destroyed you physically. My stomach felt like an invisible hand was twisting it into knots, and violent nausea had me hunched over the toilet, dry heaving until my ribs ached.
But there was nothing in my stomach to throw up. Just mouthfuls of bitter, acidic bile.
The bathroom door slammed open with a violent kick.
Katherine stood in the doorway wearing an expensive silk nightgown, arms crossed, staring at me collapsed on the tile floor like I was some kind of stranger. No concern. No worry. Just raw disgust.
"Jesus Christ, what the hell is this NOW?" Her voice bounced off the bathroom tiles.
I lifted my head weakly, my forehead slick with cold sweat. "Mom, I'm really sick. I think I have a fever, and my stomach—it really hurts..."
"Sick?"
Robert's heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway. His massive frame filled the doorway like a wall. He glanced at the mess in the toilet, and his face twisted with disgust.
"Rachel, cut the crap. You look exactly like one of those junkies on the street!"
I froze, forgetting even to gag.
Drugs?
"I haven't—I SWEAR—I would never—" I shook my head frantically, choking on my words. "I can barely afford to EAT, how could I possibly afford drugs?!"
"Yeah? Well, you never know."
Hannah appeared out of nowhere. She wore cute pink pajamas and clutched a teddy bear, peeking out carefully from behind Robert.
"Dad, so, the other day I saw Rachel behind the school talking to some guys with lip piercings..." Her voice went all soft and worried. "Those guys looked super sketchy. What if she's, like... you know... pregnant or something?"
"WHAT?!" Katherine's voice exploded.
She rushed forward in three quick strides, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and yanked my head back hard.
"Rachel! You little SLUT! How did we end up raising a piece of trash like you?!"
She pulled harder.
"No wonder you've been puking your guts out! No wonder you keep wearing baggy clothes! Did some loser knock you up?!"
"No! Hannah's LYING! I don't even know any guys with lip piercings!" My scalp burned as I struggled to break free.
"SLAP!"
Robert's hand cracked across my face.
My ears rang. Blood filled my mouth.
"Don't you DARE say your sister's lying!" Robert roared, spit flying. "Hannah NEVER lies! She's your sister—why the hell would she make this shit up?!"
He grabbed my arm roughly.
"Get dressed. Right now. We're going to Dr. Evans' clinic this second, and I'm gonna see for myself what kind of trash you really are!"
At one in the morning, they dragged me into the 24-hour private clinic like a bag of garbage.
Dr. Evans was a man in his fifties with gold-rimmed glasses.
He looked at me being shoved into the chair and frowned. "Robert, Katherine, what's going on here? Rachel looks awful. She needs to be in bed, not here."
"Dr. Evans, I need you to examine her." Katherine's voice was ice-cold. "Blood work, urine test, and... I want a pelvic exam."
Her mouth twisted as she said the last words.
"I need to know if she's on drugs. And I need to know if she's still a virgin, or if she's carrying some bastard's baby!"
Dr. Evans' eyes widened. "Katherine, have you lost your MIND? Rachel is seventeen years old!"
His tone turned sharp.
"A pelvic exam is extremely invasive and traumatic for a minor! Unless there's a damn good medical reason, I absolutely will NOT do it!"
"I'm her legal guardian! If I tell you to do it, you DO it!" Robert cut him off.
He hauled me out of the chair and threw me toward the exam table.
"It's not even that expensive! Just like this worthless piece of garbage—CHEAP!"
Ice-cold fear shot through me.
"NO! Please! I didn't do anything!" I screamed, my hands desperately gripping the door frame. "Doctor, please! PLEASE don't let them!"
My fingernails tore. Blood welled up.
But Robert was stronger. He twisted both my arms behind my back and pinned my legs down with his knee, so heavy I could barely breathe.
Katherine stood to the side, pulling out her phone.
"I'm recording all of this. I'm gonna send it to everyone in the family group chat. Let them ALL see how disgusting you are!"
A nasty smile crossed her face.
In the end, Dr. Evans threatened to call the police, which stopped the exam.
But he still ran comprehensive blood and urine tests.
Half an hour later, the results came back.
Dr. Evans walked over with the report, his face grim. "All tests are negative. No drugs. No pregnancy."
He paused.
"But her nutritional levels are dangerously low. Severe anemia and hypoglycemia. And she's showing clear signs of acute trauma."
He stared directly at Robert and Katherine.
"What the hell have you people been doing to this child?"
I thought the report would prove my innocence. That maybe—just maybe—they'd feel even a shred of guilt.
I was wrong.
Katherine snatched the report from his hands and ripped it into pieces without even looking at it.
"Don't lecture us, Evans!" She laughed coldly. "How do we know she didn't cheat somehow? Or maybe YOU'RE covering for her because she gave you something in return, huh?"
"This is INSANE!" Dr. Evans' hands were shaking.
That night after they dragged me home, Robert took my phone.
Then he started nailing wooden boards over my bedroom window.
The hammer pounding nails echoed through the silent night. Bang. Bang. Bang. Each strike felt like it was hitting my chest.
"Since you like acting like a whore so much, you can stay in this room until you turn eighteen."
Robert locked the door from outside, his voice cold as ice.
"From now on, we only have ONE daughter. Hannah. As for you? You might as well be dead."
I curled up in the dark corner, listening to the three of them outside laughing and chatting about where to go for brunch tomorrow.
I didn't cry.
My tears had dried up at the clinic.
I stared at those boards covering my window. They'd nailed the last bit of light out of my life.
