Chapter 1My Older Sister

The day I turned eighteen, my sister Sarah was found dead outside, barely clothed and covered in bruises.

My mom looked over her little ledger book, spat on the ground, and said, "Useless girl. Still cost me ten grand, that one."

Then, without even looking at Sarah, she wrapped her in an old sheet and had someone dump her body out in the woods.

But this time, I'm going back. This time, I'm going to save my sister.

* * *

Early on my birthday morning, my sister Sarah, who I hadn't seen in a year, called me from the payphone down at the corner store in our old town. "Ashley, happy birthday! Can you come home today? I got you a present!"

Her voice sounded grown-up, but there was still that childlike innocence in it, the kind that didn't match her age.

At that moment, I was already walking the streets downtown, handing out flyers to scrape together tuition for the next semester.

After I finished middle school, Mom and Dad wanted me to quit school and work in the factory. I refused.

They beat me so bad I was stuck in bed for a month, then they kicked me out.

Luckily, I met my mentor, Mrs. Evans. She organized a fundraiser through the whole school, and that's the only reason I got to go to high school.

When I applied for college, I picked the one furthest away from home I could find. I paid for everything myself – tuition, living expenses, everything.

I left home for good. The only person who ever remembered my birthday was my sister, Sarah, whose mind was still like an eight-year-old's.

Hearing the hope in her voice, I had to choke back tears and say no.

But Sarah understood. She even tried to cheer me up. "Okay, Ashley. Then when you come back for Christmas, I'll have money! I can help pay for your school then!"

Sarah got a really high fever when she was eight. Mom and Dad didn't want to spend money on a doctor. They only took her when she was barely breathing. She pulled through, but her mind never grew past that year.

Her idea of "making money" was doing little chores for neighbors, who'd give her pocket change out of pity, enough for candy.

Tears streamed down my face listening to her.

Right then, I promised I'd come home the next day.

I could hear the smile in her voice over the phone.

But by nightfall, I got the terrible news.

My sister, who was just so excited for me to come home that morning, was dead.

She was found barely dressed in a field near town. And because I didn't want to lose half a day's pay, I hadn't gone back. I missed my chance to save her.

That day, Sarah had tucked the money she made selling vegetables from her little garden stand into a hidden pocket in her clothes. Grandma Ruth demanded the money, but Sarah refused. Grandma beat her savagely for it, made her kneel on the floor, and wouldn't give her anything to eat.

Sarah got so weak from hunger she couldn't even stand. She begged Grandma Ruth for food.

But Grandma refused. Instead, she dragged Sarah over to Old Man Hemlock's place.

That's right. My grandmother took my sweet, mentally disabled sister and handed her over to that disgusting old bachelor, Hemlock. She charged him by the visit.

Sarah fought back. Hemlock beat her up. She managed to run away in terror, but she had nowhere to go. She ended up hiding in that field at the edge of town.

By the time I rushed back the next day, I found her. Her clothes were torn, her body covered in dark bruises. The blood beneath her had dried. She wasn't breathing.

My head roared. I quickly took off my jacket and covered her, sobbing uncontrollably.

And the one responsible, Grandma Ruth, was already spreading lies among the townsfolk.

"That poor girl, her mind ain't right. Had one of her fits, tore off her clothes, ran outside. Froze to death out there. Such a shame, such an embarrassment."

Grandma rubbed her eyes like she was crying, but her face was dry. "I had a bad headache last night. Made her dinner and went straight to bed. How was I supposed to know the poor thing would go crazy and do something like this? It's a curse on this family!"

My father put on a show of sadness. "We never mistreated her here at the Miller house. It was just her time, I guess. Nobody's fault."

Then he pretended to cradle Sarah gently, talking about giving her a proper burial.

The moment he got her back to the house, though, he dropped her body on the floor in disgust. "Bad luck," he muttered.