Chapter 2

A few weeks later, after another shouting match over me apparently leaving a light on, my maternal grandparents, Betty and Joe, came over.

Grandma Betty always had a soft spot for me, sneaking me cookies when Mom wasn't looking. Grandpa Joe would ruffle my hair and ask about school, his eyes kind.

They' d heard about the "incident" – Mom' s version, of course, where I was "defiant and disrespectful."

"Karen, honey," Grandma Betty started, her voice gentle but firm, sitting at our kitchen table. "We're worried about Sarah. She seems... unhappy."

Mom' s jaw tightened. "She' s a teenager, Mother. They' re always unhappy about something."

"This is more than that," Grandpa Joe said, his usual jovial tone gone. "She looks scared, Karen. And she' s got bruises again."

I was in the living room, pretending to read but listening to every word, my heart pounding with a fragile hope. Maybe they could make her stop.

Mom was silent for a long moment. Then, she reached for her phone, which was always close by.

"You want to know why Sarah is such a problem?" she said, her voice suddenly cold, chilling. "You want to know what I' m dealing with?"

She tapped the screen a few times, then turned the phone towards them.

I couldn't see the screen from where I sat, but I saw their faces.

Grandma Betty' s hand flew to her mouth, a choked gasp escaping. Her kindly face crumpled, turning pale, then ashen.

Grandpa Joe stared, his folksy smile vanishing, replaced by a look of utter horror and disbelief. He seemed to shrink in his chair.

The silence in the kitchen was thick, suffocating.

Finally, Grandma Betty lowered her hand. Her eyes, when they met Mom' s, were filled with something I couldn't name. Fear? Revulsion?

"Oh, Karen," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Oh, my dear God."

Grandpa Joe just shook his head, slowly, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the kitchen wall.

Then, Grandma Betty looked at Mom, her voice now sharp, urgent. "You need to take care of this problem, Karen. Immediately."

Mom nodded, a grim, almost satisfied look on her face.

"She can't stay here," Grandpa Joe added, his voice a harsh rasp. "It's not safe. For anyone."

My blood ran cold. "Take care of the problem?" "She can't stay here?"

They meant me.

They' d seen something on that phone, something so terrible that even my kind, loving grandparents wanted me gone. Wanted Mom to "take care" of me.

The hope I' d felt moments before shattered, leaving a cold, empty dread in its place.

They weren't going to help me. They were on her side.

Grandma Betty stood up, her movements stiff. She didn't look at me as they left. Neither did Grandpa Joe.

The front door closed behind them, and the silence they left was worse than the shouting.

Mom put her phone away, a strange, unreadable expression on her face. She looked at me, and for a second, I thought I saw a flicker of pain in her eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

"You see?" she said, her voice flat. "You bring this on everyone."

I didn't see. I didn't understand anything at all, except that I was more alone than ever.