Chapter 3

Isla's POV

"I declare tonight's prom queen to be—Leila Walker!"

The glittering crown was placed on Leila's head as everyone watched.

This was prom's climactic moment. In the luxury ballroom David had sponsored his way into, every spotlight focused on his pride and joy "daughter." Justin, as prom king, pulled her into his arms to accept everyone's congratulations.

My spirit trailed behind David, watching this circus.

"David, you've really raised an amazing daughter," one lady gushed. "Leila not only got that Ivy League interview, but she's so elegant and beautiful."

David and Sarah beamed with pride.

"By the way, don't you have another daughter? How come we didn't see her tonight?"

David's smile instantly froze: "Don't bring her up. That brat stole Leila's recommendation letter out of pure spite. I've got her locked up at home reflecting on her behavior."

"Oh my, what kind of sister would do that..."

"We were too soft on her," Sarah shook her head. "She's sulking. Don't worry about it."

I watched them coldly.

Sulking?

Yeah, I was sulking all right—with my frozen corpse at twenty below zero.

The dance went on until late night.

The family came home tipsy with celebration. Justin came back with them too, saying he'd help Leila carry her gifts to her room.

The moment they walked in, Justin excused himself to use the bathroom and headed straight upstairs.

I knew where he was going. My room.

My room was in the attic. When I was fifteen, Leila had whined that she wanted my room as her art studio because it faced east and had good light for painting.

"Isla can move to the attic. She'll be fine up there." My parents decided without a second thought.

So I was forced to move into this converted storage room—moldy walls, leaking ceiling, and only one pathetic little skylight for a window.

I couldn't fight it. In this house, I was always the least important.

I immediately followed him up.

Justin pushed open my bedroom door and his brow furrowed instantly.

The room was empty.

The books were cleared from my desk, and most of my clothes were gone from the closet.

Justin froze.

He rushed to my desk and pulled open the drawer. No diary like he'd expected, no random little trinkets.

Just an empty envelope.

Justin picked up the envelope and shook out what was inside.

A New York University acceptance letter.

And a one-way plane ticket to New York, leaving tomorrow morning.

Justin's pupils contracted sharply.

"She... she wasn't throwing a tantrum?" Justin muttered. "She'd already planned to leave? She was really going to abandon me and go to New York alone?"

Yes, Justin. I'd planned it all along.

Eighteen years of this shit was enough. When my honor roll certificates got thrown in the trash while Leila's childish scribbles were treasured on the wall, I understood—there would never be a place for me here.

So I started preparing. Working jobs, saving money, applying to NYU, even earning a full scholarship. I'd planned to head straight to the airport after graduation.

Never coming back to this suffocating house.

Too bad I never made it to that day.

Absolute panic flooded Justin.

He thought I was just playing games to get his attention. He thought if he threw me a little kindness, I'd come wagging back like a dog.

But he'd never considered that I might actually leave.

Justin frantically pulled out his phone and started calling me.

"Ring—ring—ring—"

Just endless ringing.

"ANSWER THE PHONE! Isla, pick up!" Justin's eyes went red. He paced around the room like a caged animal. "You can't just disappear on me!"

Meanwhile, downstairs in the living room.

David loosened his tie and glanced at the wall clock.

"She's been locked up for a full day and night." David said coldly. "Time she learned her lesson."

Sarah sat on the couch rubbing her temples: "Go get her out. Make her apologize to Leila and we'll call it even. Tomorrow she needs to clean up the house too—it's a complete mess from the party."

Leila said sweetly from the side: "Dad, don't yell at sister anymore. I'm sure she knows she was wrong."

"Knows she was wrong? If she knew that, she'd be in there crying and begging by now!"

David snorted and pulled the basement key from a drawer.

Then he headed toward the basement stairs.

I floated behind David, watching him go down step by step.

The basement air was noticeably colder than upstairs.

David couldn't help but shiver: "Why's this damn place so cold? Is the cooling system broken?"

He walked up to the cold storage's iron door.

Thick white frost covered the door, and at the bottom crack was a pool of dark red ice.

But David didn't look down.

He shouted at the door: "Isla! Done with your little pity party? Get your ass out here RIGHT NOW and apologize to Leila!"

Dead silence from inside.

"Still gonna play dead with me?"

David was completely enraged.

He jammed the key into the lock.

Click.

The lock opened.

Just then, Justin's frantic footsteps came from upstairs. After discovering my escape plan, he'd gone crazy and was rushing downstairs.

David grabbed the freezing door handle and yanked it outward.

The heavy iron door made a harsh scraping sound as it cracked open.

An incredibly thick smell of blood mixed with twenty-below white fog instantly burst out, hitting David in the face.

David staggered back from the cold, still cursing: "What the hell have you been doing in there..."

His words cut off abruptly.

David saw the body curled in the corner.

My body.