Chapter 4

The final breaking point came right before Christmas that year.

My dad’s company gave out holiday bonuses, along with two gift cards for a high-end department store.

He secretly took me to the mall and let me pick out a beautiful white winter coat.

It was the most popular style that year, with a fluffy faux-fur trim on the hood.

On the way home, my dad carefully packed the coat into a plain plastic bag and hid it in his toolbox.

"Daisy, don't wear it until Christmas. Don't let your mother see it, okay?"

My dad’s voice was very low, carrying a heartbreaking kind of caution.

I pressed my face against his warm back and nodded hard.

But on Christmas morning, the moment I opened my eyes, I saw Chloe twirling in front of the living room mirror, wearing my white coat.

It was a bit too long for her, and the sleeves were rolled up twice, but the white fur collar framed her face beautifully.

Valerie stood beside her, beaming with pride as she zipped it up.

"So beautiful! My Chloe looks just like a little princess."

I threw off my blanket and rushed over. "That's mine! My dad bought that for me!"

The smile vanished from Valerie’s face instantly.

She turned around, looking at me with cold disgust.

"Yours? Mine? What's the difference? Your old jacket still fits perfectly, but Chloe didn't even have a decent coat for the holidays."

"Daisy, why do you have to be so incredibly petty?"

My dad rushed out of the kitchen, still holding a spatula.

"Valerie! You touched something I bought for Daisy without my permission?! Take it off her right now!"

My dad grabbed Chloe's sleeve.

Chloe burst into tears, throwing herself onto the floor and kicking her legs.

"Mommy! He's hitting me! He hates me!"

Valerie went completely feral. She lunged forward, raised her hand, and slapped my dad across the face with all her might.

My dad’s face whipped to the side. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth, and the spatula clattered onto the hardwood floor.

The entire apartment fell dead silent, save for Chloe's fake sobbing.

Valerie’s chest heaved as she pointed a finger at the door, her voice shrieking like nails on a chalkboard.

"Robert! You can't even tolerate an orphan! Are you even human?! Let me make one thing clear today."

"It’s either her or you in this house. If you can't stand my charity, get the hell out! Take your selfish little brat and get out of my sight!"

With that, she grabbed a pair of scissors from the counter, stormed into the hallway, and dragged out all my clothes and books, dumping them onto the floor.

She even ripped my first-place school certificate in half and threw it in the dirt.

"Divorce! We are getting a divorce! This condo was leased through my company’s housing program, and all the savings are in my account. You won't get a single penny!"

Valerie panted, her eyes cold and dead. "Daisy, I’ll give you one last chance. If you choose your selfish father, don't you dare call me mother again."

"But if you stay here and act like a real sister to Chloe, I might still feed you."

I stood in the middle of the ruined living room.

On the floor, my white coat had several black footprints on it where Chloe had stepped on it.

I walked past the coat without looking at it. I went straight to my dad, reached out my small hand, and gently wiped the blood from his mouth.

My dad looked at me, his eyes red, and a tear finally fell.

"Daisy, come with me."

"Okay."

I squeezed his cold hand tightly.

Valerie let out a harsh laugh. She grabbed my school bag, threw open the front door, and hurled it into the snowbank outside.

"Get out! Both of you! Even if you starve to death on the streets, don't you dare come back crawling to me!"

The door slammed shut behind us.

On that Christmas ten years ago, the snow was falling heavily.

My dad and I stood in the freezing cold. He knelt down, brushing the slush off my wet school bag.

Now, ten years later.

In front of the exact same door, Valerie was still blocking the way with her body, screaming curses and begging.

Suddenly, footsteps and the jingling of keys echoed from the stairwell.

My stepmother Sarah’s gentle voice cut through the cold air.

"Careful, Robert. This wooden crib is heavy. Don't hurt your back."

Valerie’s screaming stopped instantly. She whipped her head around toward the stairs.