Chapter 3

Apologize? How could I possibly apologize?

I shoved Brandon away violently, then pushed the door open and ran out.

The biting wind was like daggers, and a knot of injustice and sorrow twisted in my chest.

I didn't want to go home. If it weren't for my dad's belongings, I wouldn't have come back with him.

I never wanted to be wrongly accused again, never wanted to suffer another moment of injustice!

Brandon quickly chased after me, grabbing my wrist.

His brow was tightly furrowed as he spoke, his voice full of blame.

"Where do you think you're going? Three years in the slammer and you still haven't learned your lesson?"

I shook him off, unable to hold back anymore, my eyes burning red as I retorted,

"Does she give me that necklace out of kindness or malice, Brandon? Can't you *really* see it?"

"I'm your own sister! You already personally sent me to prison once, what else do you want?"

"I was doing it for your own good!"

His voice turned cold.

"If you dare to steal, you must face the consequences. Otherwise, how will you ever change?"

"Did you expect me to just stand by and watch you make mistakes, pretending I didn't see, letting you stray down the wrong path?"

His words felt like a heavy hammer had smashed a hole in my heart.

When have I ever stolen anything, growing up?

What reason would I have to steal Tiffany's necklace?

Why couldn't he just think properly? Why wouldn't he believe me?

Tears of injustice fell, and three years of despair and pain swept over me.

I gave up on explaining, yet again.

Brandon looked at my buzz cut, his voice softening as if he was admitting defeat.

"Maya, every single thing I did, I did with you in mind. Even though you spent three years in prison, I've paved the way for your future."

"My company, everything I've built, it's all for you eventually. I only meant it as a minor punishment. It wouldn't cause any real harm."

"Come home with me, and stop running off."

He took my hand, pulling me towards the house.

I numbly followed him, not saying another word.

When we walked through the door, Tiffany saw Brandon bringing me back, and a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes.

She hadn't expected Brandon to still take me in after everything.

But I just felt utterly drained, and I retreated to my bedroom, not coming out again.

Late that night, Tiffany burst into my room.

I sharply opened my eyes, but she thought I was still asleep.

She fumbled under my pillow, stuffing something beneath it.

I said nothing, nor did I take it out.

Tiffany was so desperate, framing me again the moment I returned.

I wanted to see if Brandon would choose to believe me this time.

Sure enough, the next morning, she cried to Brandon, claiming I had stolen her necklace again.

"Maya, if you wanted it, you could have just told me. I even gave you the necklace yesterday, but you didn't want it."

"Are you just someone who *likes* to steal?"

Brandon's face darkened, and he glared at me, jaw clenched. "You just can't change, can you?"

My heart *thumped*, plunging into a bottomless abyss.

Brandon's words were like a sharp sword, severing the last thread of connection between us.

I pulled my lips into a self-deprecating smile. "No, I guess I can't."

*Slap!*

The words had barely left my mouth when Brandon suddenly raised his hand and struck me hard across the face.

The fury and disappointment in his eyes threatened to spill over. "How could I have a sister like you!"

I was silent for a moment, then, clutching my face, gave a cold, bitter laugh.

"I wonder why *I* ended up with a brother like you."

"You!"

His finger trembled as he pointed at me, too furious to speak.

Before his second slap could land, I dropped to my knees with a *thud*, bowing my head low, a final, painful gesture.

"Thank you for dropping out of school to take care of me. From now on, I don't have a brother."

With that, I stood up, pulled my dad's belongings from under the bed, and turned to leave.

His face hardened, and he snatched the photos and ring from me.

"These are Dad's things. You have no right to take them!"

Fine then.

I nodded, resigned, and prepared to leave.

Brandon bit out, his voice strained from behind me.

"You're someone who's been to prison! What can you possibly do without me? Starve to death?"

I didn't stop.

"Don't you worry about me."