Chapter 2The New York Legend

I thought that after leaving like that, my father would be gone for a long time again.

But the next day, when my mother picked me up from school, he was already sitting in our living room.

The woman from yesterday, Natalie, stood beside him, directing movers as they carried our furniture out, piece by piece, replacing it with garish pink items my mother despised.

Seeing us, my father stubbed out his cigarette and walked over, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

"Elena, Natalie needs a place to recover from the... incident. She doesn't like our furniture, so we're replacing it. It's old anyway. Time for a change."

He avoided her eyes. "I know you don't like her, so I've booked a month-long trip for you and Alan. Go abroad, have a vacation."

But this was our home. Why was he kicking us out for a stranger?

Natalie spotted us and sauntered over. She pinched my cheek, hard. "Well, well, if it isn't the sickly little tattletale. I was going to wait until your little brother was born and make you his servant, but you just had to run your mouth to your mommy, didn't you?"

"I don't like boys with big mouths," she hissed. "When your daddy and I have our next baby, you won't get a single penny of the Blackwood fortune."

The cloying scent of her perfume was so strong it made it hard to breathe.

My mother saw my distress and pulled me into her arms. "Alan's having an asthma attack! Get his medicine, now!"

But as a bodyguard rushed down with my inhaler, Natalie blocked his path and dumped the entire contents of the medical kit into the trash.

"I'm a doctor," she declared smugly. "Alan doesn't have asthma. It's just a minor respiratory issue. He'll be fine if he just toughs it out. No need for drugs."

My throat felt like it was being squeezed shut. It was getting harder and harder to draw a breath.

Natalie looked down at me with an all-knowing smirk. "Alan, do you know why you're so fragile, always getting sick? It's because while your mother was pregnant with you, she was sleeping around with all sorts of men. She caught some filthy disease and passed it right on to you in her belly."

"Your mother is a whore," she sneered. "And that makes you just as dirty. Not like me. I'm clean. I have self-respect."

But my mother only got sick because she was saving my father. It had nothing to do with other men. Had he forgotten?

I looked over at him, but he just sat on the sofa, scrolling through his phone, acting as if he hadn't heard a word.

My mother finally snapped. She kicked Natalie aside with a furious shove, dug my inhaler out of the trash, and pressed it to my lips.

Sweet, life-giving air flooded my lungs.

Natalie’s head had hit the corner of the new coffee table, and blood was already trickling down her temple.

My father, who had been ignoring everything just a second ago, was on his feet in a flash, rushing to her side.

"Are you insane, Elena?" he roared at my mother. "Can't you handle hearing a few home truths? If it weren't for your issues, why would Alan be sick all the time? Why can't he live like a normal kid?"

"Elena, my patience with you is wearing thin. Apologize to Natalie. Now."

My mother just let out a cold, bitter laugh. She turned to me. "Alan, do you think Mommy did something wrong?"

I gave her a big thumbs-up. "I'm always on your side, Mommy."

She smiled, but her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

My father's face twisted in rage. "Look what you've taught him! You're not fit to be a mother. From now on, Natalie will be in charge of raising Alan."

He grabbed me and tried to pull me over to Natalie's side. But the suffocating cloud of her perfume was like a rope tightening around my neck. I struggled, but my father's grip only grew stronger, more forceful.

The asthma came back, worse than before. My neck felt like it was being devoured by a thousand fire ants. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor.

Through the haze of pain, I heard my father's annoyed voice. "Not this again. Alan, your Aunt Natalie already told you you're fine. Stop faking it."

But I wasn't faking it. I really, truly couldn't breathe.

Just before I blacked out, I saw my mother burst through them all, scoop me into her arms, and run for the door. I glanced back at the living room. My father was crouched over Natalie, his face a mask of gentle concern as he checked her injury.

In that moment, a fierce, burning hatred for my father ignited within me.

He had promised to love me and Mommy forever. But his forever was so short.