Chapter 3

3

I stared at him, horrified.

"One time you weren't home, she put on that low-cut dress I bought―the one like Sasha wore―and came to my room..."

I slapped him across the face before he could finish.

I couldn't believe he'd accuse a six-year-old of that.

I kicked him out to the guest room. I felt sick looking at him.

I looked at our family photo on the nightstand.

Kaylee still had scars on her neck and shoulders from the surgery.

She never even cried when she woke up from the operation.

"Don't cry, Mommy. It doesn't hurt," she had told me.

How could that sweet girl want to kill me?

I fell asleep crying.

Suddenly, I heard a rustling sound.

I forced my eyes open. A shadow stood by the bed.

"Ah!" I screamed, hitting the light.

It was Kaylee. And she was holding a knife.

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