Chapter 2I Stole a Bone to Survive and Built My Own Empir

On Christmas Eve, the snow was thick and heavy.

My fingers and toes were numb. My eyelashes were covered in ice crystals.

Finally, I saw a familiar, yet distant figure walking toward me, trudging through the snow. She was leading a small, neatly dressed boy.

“June? Wake up.”

My eyes snapped open. A blast of icy wind rushed down my collar.

There was no mother. No brother. No new clothes.

Only Bella’s anxious face.

It had been a fever dream. I had been squatting too long in the cold and had caught a nasty bug.

Bella sighed, pushing a few white pills into my hand.

“Take these. For the fever. You can’t die out here, June. No one will even know to look.”

I swallowed the bitter pills and looked out at the distant mountain range.

“Bella, is the outside world beautiful?”

Her eyes flashed with a brief, painful light before darkening.

“For the rich, it’s gorgeous. Neon lights and endless parties.”

“But for us? It’s shift work, assembly lines, and aching feet. Still better than begging the dirt for a living, though.”

She looked at me, her expression serious.

“June, don’t bother with high school. Come back to the construction site with me. They’re hiring, and they pay for room and board.”

I clutched the rough fabric of Grandma’s jacket and shook my head.

“I want to read. I want to go to school.”

Bella chuckled, a dry sound. “With what money? No cash, no classroom, June.”

I dropped my gaze. I didn't want the construction site. Every girl who went to the construction site from our village came back two years later to marry and have kids.

Bella was the same. The man she brought back would be her fiancé after the New Year.

Once a girl married here, she was trapped.

I refused to accept that fate. I wouldn't trade one cage for another.

Seeing my silence, Bella sighed again and walked back home.

On New Year’s Eve, the sound of firecrackers shook the village.

I sat alone in the empty house until the night was black, but my mother never showed.

The last of the rice was gone. My stomach burned with a hunger that felt like fire.

The scent of BBQ drifted over from the neighbor’s house, hooking into my soul like a claw.

I pushed the door open and stumbled out.

In the alley, a mangy stray was hunched over, tearing at a piece of bone with strips of gristle and meat still clinging to it.

I stared at that bone. My throat tightened. I couldn't stop the saliva from pooling in my mouth.

My rational mind screamed at me that it was dog food.

But instinct drove me. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then lunged forward, snatching the bone right out of the dog's mouth.

“June? What in God’s name—!”

Marge Dawson, the mayor’s wife, had come out with a bucket of slops and saw the entire thing.

I froze, the saliva-coated bone still gripped in my hand.

My face was instantly on fire. I threw the bone back down in a panic, desperate for a hole to swallow me whole.

Marge stood there for a long moment, then sighed, a sound heavy with sorrow.

She went back inside and returned with a large bowl heaped with smashed potatoes, topped with a slab of sausage.

“Eat,” she commanded.

I forgot all pride and dignity, taking the bowl and devouring the food.

After I ate, Marge led me straight to the mayor’s house.

“This child has been alone for nearly six months, Mayor. I checked her pantry today—it’s empty. What is she going to do? You have to figure something out.”

Mayor Dawson studied me, his face etched with concern. Finally, he spoke: “I’ll call her mother to come get her.”

My heart seized up. I immediately stood straighter.

What would Mom say when she picked up the phone?