Chapter 4

Brenda didn't give up. She never gave up.

If direct emotional blackmail didn't work, she'd escalate.

A few weeks before I was due to leave for State, I came home from my part-time job at the library.

Mr. Henderson, my high school counselor, had been helping me with some extra financial aid forms. He was a good man, saw potential in me even when Brenda only saw a possession.

I'd cautiously told him a little about my home situation, about Brenda's "illnesses" and her opposition to my college plans. He'd listened with a concerned frown.

"Sometimes, Ethan," he'd said, "parents have a hard time letting go. But your future is important."

As I walked into the house, I felt a chill. Something was wrong.

Brenda was sitting on the sofa, wringing her hands.

A woman I vaguely recognized, Patty, one of our neighbors Brenda sometimes roped into her dramas, was with her, looking uncomfortable.

And then I saw them. Two police officers.

My blood ran cold.

"Ethan, thank goodness you're here," Brenda said, her voice trembling with fake tears. "These officers... they need to talk to you."

One of the officers, a stern-faced man, stepped forward. "Ethan Miller? We've received a report. We need to search your room."

"Search my room? For what?" I was stunned.

"We have reason to believe you may be in possession of illegal substances," the officer said. "Possibly with intent to distribute."

Drugs? Distribute? This was insane.

Brenda started sobbing. "Oh, Ethan, my poor boy! I don't know where I went wrong! I tried to raise you right!"

Patty chimed in, her voice hesitant. "I... I saw him, Officer. Acting suspiciously. With... with little bags."

Liar. Brenda had put her up to this.

"This is ridiculous," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I don't do drugs. You can search my room. You won't find anything."

They went upstairs. I could hear them opening drawers, moving things.

Brenda kept up her performance. "My son, a drug dealer! Oh, the shame! His scholarship, they'll take it away! He'll have to stay home now, where I can keep an eye on him."

Her eyes, through her fake tears, glinted with triumph.

This was her plan. Get my scholarship revoked. Keep me trapped.

Chloe came downstairs, her face pale. "What's going on?"

"Your brother has gotten himself into terrible trouble," Brenda wailed.

The officers came back down. One of them held a small plastic baggie. Inside were a dozen or so white pills.

"Found these under your mattress, son," the stern officer said.

My stomach dropped. Those weren't mine. I'd never seen them before.

"Those aren't mine!" I exclaimed. "I swear! Someone planted them!"

Brenda gasped. "Oh, Ethan, don't lie! It only makes it worse! Just confess, tell them you made a mistake!"

The officer looked at me, then at Brenda, then at Patty, who was now avoiding everyone's gaze.

"Ma'am," the officer said to Brenda. "What kind of pills are these?"

Brenda looked flustered. "I... I don't know. Drugs, aren't they?"

"They look like prescription medication," the officer said. He turned to Patty. "Ma'am, you said you saw him with little bags. When was this?"

Patty stammered, "Uh... yesterday? Or the day before?"

"And what exactly did you see him doing?"

Patty's eyes darted to Brenda, who gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of her head.

I knew then. Brenda had orchestrated this whole thing. She was trying to destroy my future.