She tried to open her mouth to call for help, to say anything.
But the sound that came out was barely audible, even to herself.
The footsteps faded.
The room fell completely silent.
In that stillness, Daisie felt something inside her finally shatter.
Hatred bloomed in her chest like wildfire, spreading until it filled every corner of her being.
Once she went abroad, she swore she would make Willard and Kendra pay—strip them of everything, down to their skin and bones.
And when Daisie made a promise, she always meant it.
But before she could think another thought, the pain overwhelmed her. Her body gave out, and one more time, she fell into unconsciousness.
How long she lay there, Daisie didn’t know. She was just jolted out of unconsciousness by pain.
The burn on her skin had been wrapped in a few hasty turns of gauze. It was so thin she could still feel the swollen outline of the blisters underneath. The bandage at her abdomen was tied tight and crooked; she could feel a faint seep of blood through the layers.
Just then, the door burst open.
Kendra barged in. Her cheeks were flushed, her step light and composed. There wasn’t a trace of the frailty she used to pretend to have.