Chapter 2

The state collegiate track and field championship was only a day away. This meet was everything. A win meant a full scholarship to a top university, my ticket out of this life and into a future I could control.

I was the favorite. I had trained relentlessly, my body a fine-tuned machine. But I knew Nicole Clark, my "sister," would be there too. She wasn't a real athlete, but she was a master of appearances.

Just as I was finishing my warm-up stretches on the field, they arrived. The whole Clark clan, a perfect, wealthy family coming to support their perfect, polished daughter. They surrounded Nicole, showering her with praise, adjusting her uniform, handing her expensive sports drinks.

They saw me standing a few feet away, in my standard-issue high school gear. They looked right through me.

Maria, our matron, had come to support me. She stood by the fence, her face beaming with pride. She was my real family.

My biological brother, a smug kid named Ethan, walked past Maria. He sneered at her simple, worn coat.

"Look at this place," he said loudly to his friend. "Smells like poverty. Can't believe we have to breathe the same air as these people."

Something inside me snapped. Before I could think, I crossed the distance between us in three long strides. I grabbed his arm, my grip tight.

"What did you say?" I demanded, my voice low and dangerous.

Ethan was shocked. "Let go of me, you psycho!"

"Apologize to her," I said, nodding toward Maria. "Now."

My father, Matthew Clark, rushed over. "Jocelyn! What is the meaning of this? Unhand your brother!"

"He insulted my mother," I said, not letting go. "He will apologize."

My biological mother gasped. "Your mother? I am your mother! How dare you defend this... this stranger over your own family?"

Nicole glided over, her face a mask of concern. "Jocelyn, please. We're all just a little stressed. Let's not make a scene."

She was framing it perfectly. I was the aggressive, uncivilized outsider. They were the victims. It was the same script as last time.

Maria walked over, her face calm but her eyes full of fire. She placed a hand on my arm.

"Jocelyn, it's alright," she said softly. "I don't need an apology from someone with no manners."

She looked at Matthew Clark, her gaze unwavering. "You should be ashamed. Not of her, but of yourselves. You don't know the first thing about the daughter you threw away."

She gave my arm a final squeeze. "I'll be in the stands. Run your heart out."

She walked away, leaving me alone with them. I let go of Ethan's arm. The damage was done. In their eyes, I had proven that I was exactly what they thought I was: wild, violent, and not one of them.

Their disgust was a physical thing, a wall between us. And for the first time, I felt a profound sense of relief. I didn't have to pretend anymore.