Chapter 3The Gentle Lie

From that day on, Mindy’s belly began to swell.

Leo told me she was going to have a baby brother for him to play with. An involuntary cramp seized my chest, and I rubbed at the spot.

"I want to play with the baby brother, too."

I tiptoed over to where Mindy was napping on the sofa and gently rested my head on her rounded stomach.

"Ah!"

Her eyes flew open, wide with shock and fear. Suddenly, she clutched her belly, beads of sweat popping on her forehead. They rushed her to the hospital.

Anson, already exhausted from a full day of overtime, raced to her side.

The baby was fine, but Mindy was hysterical.

"Anson! Sasha tried to hurt me and the baby!" she shrieked. "You have to send her away! Please, just until the baby is born. You can bring her back then."

I knew I’d done something wrong. I huddled in a corner, trying to make myself small. Anson raised his hand, his arm trembling with rage, but after a long moment, he let it fall. He sighed, a long, ragged sound, and went to Mindy's side, whispering something I couldn't hear. She started screaming and throwing things.

Anson led me away. I spoke up, my voice small. "Anson, if you send me away... can you not send me too far?"

"I told you, our family is not going to be separated!" His voice was raw, his eyes shot with bloodshot veins.

With a gentle push, he backed me into the storage room.

Click.

The door locked from the outside.

"Anson, what are you doing?!"

"Just be good, Sasha. You only have to wait until Mindy's baby is born. Then you can come out." His voice, muffled and heavy, came through the door. It sounded so, so tired.

So I decided to be good. I lay down on the cold floor and waited for Anson to feel better and let me out.

But I slept and woke, slept and woke, and the door never opened. My stomach growled, a loud, empty protest.

"Shh, tummy, don't cry. I'll find you something to eat."

I searched the cluttered room and found only half a piece of stale fruitcake. It was hard and a little bitter. After eating it, I was still just as hungry.

"Anson, I'm hungry!" I banged on the door, my voice cracking into a desperate wail.

It was late at night when he finally wrenched the door open, his face dark with fury.

I just looked at him, my mouth hanging open pitifully. "So hungry..."

He seemed to remember then that I hadn't eaten. A flash of guilt crossed his face. He grabbed a few slices of bread from the fridge and thrust them at me, but my eyes were glued to the pot of chicken soup simmering on the stove.

Without a word, he slammed the door shut again. "That's for Mindy. You can't have any."

It dawned on me then that the good things in this house were no longer for me first.

After eating the dry bread, I remembered I was in the storage room. This wasn't a place for sleeping.

I started banging on the door again. "I'm sleepy! I want to go to bed!" The rhythm of my fists against the wood was like a drum, and I found it strangely entertaining.

"Sasha, are you deaf?!" Anson yanked the door open, huge dark circles under his eyes. "Mindy needs to sleep! Can you please just be quiet!"

I hiccuped in fear.

Just then, Mindy appeared, holding out a small white bottle. "If she takes these, we'll all get some peace."

Anson hesitated.

"She's just a simpleton, Anson," Mindy pressed. "She won't know the difference. It'll be fine."

His expression hardened. He pried my mouth open and forced several small white pills down my throat. They were bitter, and I wanted to spit them out, but Anson's fingers pushed them deeper, past my tongue.

The world slowly faded to black. I was so, so sleepy. My body went limp, and I collapsed onto the floor.

After that, whenever I opened my eyes, they would feed me the little white pills. The periods of darkness grew longer and longer.

Finally, even Anson realized something was wrong. He rushed to the storage room and flung open the door.

He shook me, slapped my cheeks, but I didn't respond.

Tears, hot and heavy, splashed onto my face. "Sasha, don't scare me! Please, don't scare me!"