Chapter 1

After barely escaping a human trafficking syndicate in Southeast Asia, I dragged myself through hell to get home.

The moment I pushed open the front door, I walked straight into a celebratory party thrown by my parents and older brother.

Everyone inside was laughing, drinking, and arguing over how to blow through my life insurance payout.

My brother stood on a chair, thoroughly sloshed, slurring into a microphone:

"Maya’s officially declared dead! The insurance company wired a cool million!"

"Next up, I'm doing a round-the-world tour! Daily vlogs, TikTok livestreams, the whole nine yards!"

"Who's packing their bags with me?!"

The room erupted into wild cheers. My parents beamed at him, their eyes practically dripping with paternal devotion.

"At least Maya didn't die for nothing. She finally contributed something useful to this family!"

"We’ll make sure to toast her memory once in a while!"

I watched their fake, greedy smiles, then quietly slipped toward my bedroom.

From under the bed, I dragged out a heavy burlap sack containing the trafficker whose legs I had personally broken.

It was time to give my loving family a surprise gift.

The day I clawed my way back from Southeast Asia, a torrential downpour soaked the city.

Yet our suburban house was blazing with lights, buzzing with drunken laughter and clinking glasses.

I stood on the porch in the freezing rain, listening to the pulsing bass and celebratory toasts, feeling entirely detached from reality.

Did Mom and Dad somehow find out I was alive?

Were they throwing a welcome-home bash for me?

I pushed the front door open just an inch. A blast of warmth hit me—roast meat, spilled beer, and cheap champagne.

Right across the living room hung a massive red banner, but my name was nowhere on it.

[CONGRATULATIONS KEVIN ON KICKING OFF YOUR WORLD TOUR!]

Kevin was my older brother.

The man standing on a chair, mic in one hand and a bottle in the other, boasting about jetting across the globe, was none other than him.

"Listen up, guys! First stop, Paris! Eiffel Tower selfies! Then straight to Iceland for the Northern Lights! Man... my poor little sis. God bless her soul, seriously! If she hadn't kicked the bucket, your boy wouldn't have this bag!"

Down in the front row, my parents, George and Sarah, didn't shed a single tear. They were grinning from ear to ear, clapping like proud pageant parents.

Our relatives and neighbors raised their plastic cups in unison.

"George, your boy really has big dreams!"

"Right? Sucks about your daughter, but hey, at least she made one final contribution to the household!"

"A whole million dollars! With that kind of cash, Kevin doesn't need to work a day in his life. Pure luxury from here on out!"

Every single word felt like a hot iron pressed against my chest.

I had been missing for three brutal months, trafficked abroad, treated worse than stray cattle.

Every single day, I told myself: Survive. Escape. Get back to your parents.

To break free, I had spent seven days and nights hiding in the dense jungle, surviving on bugs and muddy water.

I crawled back from the brink of death to reach home.

And home was throwing a rager to celebrate my death, popping bottles over the insurance money that had just cleared.

They'd reported me missing barely a month after I vanished. I learned later that Dad had used a forged overseas death certificate to collect the insurance money.

The place I'd fought so hard to get back to had written me off as soon as the money cleared.

The physical ache from my cracked ribs and scraped skin faded into numbness. A chilling frost shot from my feet straight to my skull, freezing the blood in my veins.

Nobody noticed me standing in the shadowed doorway.

I backed away from the front door and went around to the back, out of sight.

I didn't cry. Instead, my lips pulled back into a wide, silent smile.

Rainwater mixed with something warm trickling down my cheeks, tasting bitterly salty.

I slipped in through the back door and went straight to my bedroom. I'd hidden Leo under the bed earlier, while the house was empty. I dragged the sack out the back and down the alley to an abandoned auto shop a few blocks away.

As I pushed open the rusted metal door, the smell of mildew and motor oil hit me.

I set the sack down in the darkest corner. It squirmed.

I untied the thick nylon rope, revealing a man shivering in sheer terror.

I stared down at the human trafficker who had orchestrated my sale abroad—Leo.

I was genuinely glad I had managed to drag him all the way back across state lines as my personal luggage.

Seeing my soaking-wet figure loom over him, Leo trembled violently.

He couldn't scream, though; I had already dislocated his jaw hours ago.

I crouched down, pulled out my cracked phone, and held my phone up to his face and played the video I had just recorded at the party.

"Take a good look, Leo."

I reached out with both hands and snapped his jaw back into place with a sickening pop.

"Your business partners are having a grand old time celebrating your successful trade."

Leo stared at the screen, watching my parents and brother cheering and high-fiving. His eyes went wide with pure disbelief.

"Now," I whispered, leaning in close, "let's talk about how we're going to make them bleed every cent back—with heavy interest."