Chapter 2

2

I keep sitting there quietly, letting the cold and hunger gnaw at me.

"Need a ride, miss?"

A taxi pulls up.

I shake my head.

"Waiting for someone."

Taxis come and go.

It's past 10 pm, almost closing time at the hospital, and still no sign of the Landrys.

Not a single message on my phone.

The security guard can't take it anymore.

"You've been waiting all day, ain't nobody coming!

I'm about to clock out, and it's dangerous out here at night, especially for a young girl like you!"

I just manage a weak smile.

What's one more day when I've already waited five years?

He sighs, gives me some water and a sandwich, and decides to stay late with me since he's worried about me.

"Thanks, mister!"

I eat the sandwich, grateful.

This is the best birthday I've had in five years.

In the end, I didn't get picked up, the security guard took me home.

It's after midnight when I finally get there.

My phone's still silent.

The Landry house is lit up, the sound of laughter spilling out into the night.

I don't say a word.

If the maid hadn't opened the door, I think I would've stayed out there forever.

"Wow, you look awful!

And your clothes are a mess."

Chad's the first to speak, can't help but blurt it out.

Mom seems shocked.

"Ashley, honey, you've lost so much weight!"

How could I go from a chubby-cheeked girl to someone who barely tips the scales at eighty pounds in just five years?

Even Dad looks a little sad, immediately telling the maid to fix me something to eat.

"We were going to pick you up, but Brittany wasn't feeling well, so we..."

I get it.

This is their special way of making amends.

They can ignore me and put me down in front of Brittany without a second thought, not even caring if they hurt my feelings.

Then, afterward, they toss me a bone, hoping I'll forget all the pain.

I used to eat it up.

But now, I don't care.

I start to speak, but Chad cuts me off.

"Give me a break, it's just a ploy to get attention.

Probably dieting again and blaming it on the hospital?

Just wants you to feel sorry for her so she can stay here!"

Mom scoffs at him, then turns to me, her eyes soft and gentle.

"We haven't found your real parents yet, so you can stay here.

You can call me Mom again, I'll still think of you as my daughter!"

"It's okay, Mrs. Landry, I'm so grateful you're letting me stay!"

That one formal address puts a vast distance between us, where once there was the closest bond imaginable.

Mom can't hold back the tears, and starts to cry.

I'm not the headstrong girl she used to know anymore.

If I complained, if I yelled, if I blamed her and Dad for those years of neglect, it'd be better than this weak, pathetic version of myself.