Chapter 3

I put in earplugs, but I could still hear them.

Loud, happy laughter from the master bedroom next door. Chloe' s high-pitched giggles and Liam' s deeper chuckle. The sound was a physical pain, twisting in my gut.

I couldn't stand it. I got dressed, pulling on a simple pair of jeans and a sweater, and headed for the front door. I needed air. I needed to be anywhere but here.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, a hand grabbed my arm. It was Chloe.

"Where are you off to, sis?" she asked, her voice sickly sweet.

My eyes fell to her wrist. She was wearing a bracelet, a custom-made string of wooden beads. Liam' s bracelet.

She saw me looking and chuckled, a low, malicious sound. "Oh, this? Liam used this to measure my wrist earlier. He's getting me a new one. I was having so much fun, I forgot to take it off."

My heart clenched. I remembered that bracelet. I had touched it once, just a light, curious touch, and Liam had locked me in the dark, damp basement for seven days. He told me it was sacred, something that cleansed his spirit.

"Speaking of the bracelet," Chloe continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "do you know why Liam loves this one so much? He had it commissioned specially for me after one of our spiritual retreats."

She leaned in closer, her breath hot on my ear. "And every month, he spends a week with me at a secluded resort. That's our special time. You haven' t seen Liam when he' s truly passionate, have you? He can' t keep his hands off me there. He even says he feels sick when he sees you at home, and wishes he could just run away and never come back."

My fists clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. Liam' s monthly "spiritual retreats." He always told me he needed to be alone, to meditate. He wouldn't return until I had copied religious scriptures a hundred times as a sign of my devotion and purity.

All that time, he was with her.

Chloe watched my face, waiting for a reaction. When I remained silent, a mask of cold fury settled on her features. She dropped the sweet pretense.

She dug her sharp, newly manicured nails into my arm, drawing blood.

"Ava, you bitch, stop pretending!" she hissed. "Do you think Liam will like you if you act like you don' t care? I hate your pitiful act! I want to take everything from you-Mom and Dad' s love, Liam' s love. Everything! You should have died at birth, so you wouldn' t be here to steal what' s mine!"

She shoved me hard. I stumbled backward, my arms flailing. My hand hit a tall vase on a pedestal. It teetered for a moment before crashing down the stairs with a deafening shatter.

I screamed as a large shard of porcelain sliced deep into my arm. Blood instantly soaked the sleeve of my sweater, dripping onto the marble floor.