er, maybe complaining about the blood on the towel I'd used to clean my head. But when I ope

he door click shut behind her. "This place is

ll room, running a finger

ry dramatic. Almost as good as my 'orphan'

ody too weak to even stand prop

ead. I was nothing. An orphan. People get tired of orphans. I had to be the perfect child, the sweet, traumatized girl who nee

am that causes a convincing rash. It was so easy. The bullying at school? I started the rumors about you, then cried to the principal that y

you're actually dying. It' s perfect. You

I stumbled, and she kicked my legs out from under me. I crump

standing over me. "And I'll have everything. Their l

d left, slamm

p laptop sitting open on the desk. She didn't see that

sending it to my father, my mother, and my brother. Then, I uploaded it to the private, shared family photo album online, the one

g, and left the motel. There was only one place left to go. The