It was dark and cold, and I kept hearing voices, speaking in hushed tones, but no one gave me any food.

I remember thinking about Dad and Aiden and Cole and if they were okay.

After I was thrown out of the van into a similar forest like this one, I didn’t cry or call for help. I couldn’t, even if I’d wanted to. It could have been because Dad said to never cry and to think of solutions instead of thinking of problems.

But I remembered having one purpose: I had to go home to Kim.

She hates spending time with her mum and I promised to never leave her alone. I’d planned to keep that promise, just like she kept her promise about never leaving my side.

And that’s exactly how I got home.

I fought the cold and the hunger and continued walking until I found a police station.

Since then, Kim and I have grown even closer. She’s the only one I told about the kidnapping and how cold it was. She’s the first person who comes to mind when I wake up in the morning and the last thought in my head when I go to bed at night.

Aiden and Cole have been making fun of me, saying I’m being controlled by a girl and that I should wear her skirt. I punched Aiden and kicked that tosser Cole in the chin.

He said that she’ll grow up and not care about me anymore, because that’s what girls do. They change their minds.

That’s why I’ve been keeping a distance from her, not because I don’t care about her anymore like she said, but because I don’t want her to hate me with time.

I don’t know what I would do if she hates me. It’d be worse than losing Mum. At least I had her back then. If I lose her, I’ll have no one.

“Absolutely not!”

I come to halt at the very familiar voice. Jeanine, Kim’s mother. What is she doing here?

Tiptoeing behind a tree, I peek through the branches to find her standing in front of her white car, folding her arms. She’s wearing huge sunglasses that cover half her face and a scarf around her head, but I know it’s her from the voice and the car and the shiny brown hair.

Kim is always jealous of that, wishing she had hair like her mum, a body like her mum, and everything like her mum.

If only she knew she’s more beautiful than her mum.

“I want my daughter, Jeanine. You’re obviously not doing a good job with her.”

My nails dig into the trunk as the person she’s speaking to comes into view.

Dad.

He stands in front of his Mercedes, wearing his hunting hat.

His words slowly trickle in my brain. Daughter. He said, daughter.

“Fucking someone doesn’t make you a father, Lewis.” She flips her hair back. “I’m the one who carried Kimberly in my womb for nine fucking months.”

“Doing that doesn’t make you a mother either.” He glares down at her.

“You should’ve fought for her as soon as she was born. But no, you had that other bitch to worry about. Your home and your pretty little family. Remember what you told me back then?” Her voice turns mocking as she mimics his, “I already have a son, Jeanine. Don’t get on my nerves, Jeanine.”

“Well, I didn’t think you’d be this useless as a mother. She was crying the other day because you yelled at her.”

“I get to raise her any way I like. Mind your own business and take care of your precious son.”

“Jeanine,” he mutters her name through clenched teeth.

“I have a reputation, okay? I can’t just announce I have a daughter outside of marriage, an affair, and with my neighbour and my husband’s friend. Do you even realise how that would smash my and Calvin’s careers? Yours, too, in fact.”

“I’m not asking you to announce it, but to at least tell her about it, so I can openly treat her as my daughter. She already spends so much time with Xander anyway.”

“No way. That brat will start calling you Dad in public and I can’t have that.” She points a finger at him. “Keep our deal or I’m telling Xander the truth. How do you think your precious son would feel, huh?”

“Don’t you dare come near him.”

“Then stop this nonsense.”

“I’m warning you. Treat her well.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you miss the part that says you don’t get to tell me what to do? Even Calvin doesn’t, so why should you?”

“I’m her father, damn it. I can’t let you mistreat her like that.”

“Or what? You’ll demand custody? I guess you can’t, huh?”

“I’m keeping my eyes on you.” He heads towards his car.

“You know I love the attention.”

“Rot in hell, Jeanine.”

“I’ll see you there, Lewis.” She waves at him with a venomous smile before she yanks her car door open and slides inside.

Both of them head in opposite directions, leaving dust in their wake.

And me.

I stand there, not believing what I just heard. A blade slashes through my chest, and although I can’t see it, I feel it. It’s deep, burning and painful. So, so painful.

My legs shake and I fall to a sitting position, unable to remain standing anymore.

I stare at the road they just took as if I can bring them back and ask them about what they revealed.

A daughter.

Kim’s father isn’t Uncle Calvin, it’s my dad. That means she’s my sister.

My. Sister.

I always told Kimberly that I wanted a sibling like she had Kirian and she said he could be both of ours.

I felt so happy back then, to have a sibling, but now, after I found out she’s my real sibling, I want to cry.

She can’t be my sister. If she is, that means I can’t kiss her anymore.

It means I have to be with her like I am with Kirian.

I hate that.

I hate Dad and Jeanine.

And now, I have to hate Kim.

25

Kimberly

Present

My mouth hangs open. I couldn’t close it if I tried.

The whole time Xander has been telling me his version of that day seven years ago, he hasn’t looked at me.

Not even once.

He’s the only one I can look at, though. I feel like if I don’t use him as a visual anchor, I’ll have some sort of a breakdown.

The wound at my wrist itches, tingling and scratching for a touch. I clutch it with my other hand, not wanting to feel that need for pain.

If I let it loose, it’ll just devour me alive.

“After that,” he says in the calm voice he’s been using since he came here. “I had to stay away because I didn’t trust myself around you.”

My nose tingles, but I ask anyway. “Trust yourself around me, how?”

His ocean eyes meet mine. They’re dark, desolate, as if he’s hanging at the bottom. “You’re my sister, Kim.”

He says it with harshness, like he’s trying to jam that information in my head.

He’s trying to hit that fact home.

And he should.

Because even as I hear those words out loud, I can’t believe them.

No – I don’t want to believe them.

Xander can’t be my brother. He just can’t.