Chapter 199
The pencil scratched against the notebook as Phoenix focused on solving math problems, only to flinch when Frank's furious roar echoed through the house. She bit her lip in frustration—wasn't taking care of Bobby supposed to be Maggie's job? Why was it always dumped on her?
But today, her father's face was darker than storm clouds. Too afraid to disobey, Phoenix silently set down her pencil and dragged Bobby into her room. She sat him on the edge of her bed to play while she returned to her homework.
"I want that! Give it to me!" Bobby suddenly lunged at her desk, chubby fingers stabbing toward her pencil. Phoenix frowned and snapped, "Stop it! This isn't a toy!"
The spoiled little tyrant wasn't used to being denied. He grabbed for it, and as Phoenix jerked away—thud—Bobby toppled off the bed, his forehead smashing against the corner of a chair. Blood gushed instantly.
The ear-splitting wail brought Frank and Maggie stumbling in—Frank with his pants half-fastened, Maggie with her bra on backward. They found Bobby sprawled on the floor, face covered in blood, while Phoenix stood frozen beside him.
"You little monster!" Frank's eyes burned red, the frustration from earlier that day boiling over. He scooped Bobby up and backhanded Phoenix across the face, then kicked her hard in the stomach. "You dare hurt your brother? If anything happens to him, I'll skin you alive!"
Maggie watched coldly, grabbing her purse as she hurried after Frank. Before leaving, she glanced back at Phoenix, curled up and trembling in the corner, and smirked.
Phoenix clutched her stinging cheek. The pain in her stomach was nothing compared to the ache in her chest. The father who'd once been kind now looked at her like she was his worst enemy. The stepmother who'd always smiled at her couldn't even spare a glance.
A sudden chill ran through her—if something really happened to Bobby… her father would kill her.
When she staggered into her grandmother's house, the old woman was stir-frying vegetables at the stove. Seeing her granddaughter covered in blood, she didn't even pause. "What now?"
"Grandma! Dad's going to kill me!" Phoenix clung to her.
"Stop being so dramatic," the old woman scoffed, shoving her away. "Blame that heartless mother of yours! If she'd just send the child support—"
"It was an accident! Bobby fell!" Phoenix cried. "It's not Lily's fault!"
The spatula, slick with hot oil, came crashing down. "You wretched girl!" Her grandmother's face twisted with rage. "How dare you hurt my grandson? You should be the one dead!" Every strike was vicious—Phoenix's braid came undone, her scalp burning where hair was ripped out.
When she finally escaped, curses followed her into the street. Phoenix touched the sticky blood on her face… and laughed. All those warm words, those loving smiles—they'd only ever been about the monthly checks from Lily.
The setting sun stretched her shadow long and thin. Standing at the mouth of the alley, the girl realized for the first time how vast the world was—and how little room it had for her.