“Stop being so pathetic and needy. Find your own way home.”
I did figure it out by calling my estranged father, who arrived in a private jet. When she returned, she found my room empty and legal papers waiting.
My name is Leah, and when I was eight, my world revolved around my mom, Annette. She was everything to me after my parents divorced when I was five. My father, Gordon, had essentially disappeared from our lives after the divorce.
Mom always told me he was too busy with his business empire to care about us, that he’d chosen money over family. I believed her completely. Mom remarried when I was seven to a man named Calvin, who came with two children of his own—Kylie, who was ten, and Noah, who was nine.
From the beginning, it was clear that I was the outsider in this new family unit. Calvin made no effort to hide his preference for his biological children, and my mother seemed to go along with whatever made her new husband happy. Kylie and Noah were everything I wasn’t in Calvin’s eyes.
They were confident, demanding, and knew exactly how to manipulate situations to their advantage. Kylie had this way of smiling sweetly at adults while being absolutely vicious to me when they weren’t looking. Noah was more direct in his cruelty, often “accidentally” breaking my toys or spilling things on my homework.
The problems started small: family movie nights where I was told there wasn’t enough room on the couch; birthday parties where Kylie and Noah got elaborate celebrations while mine was forgotten or hastily thrown together; vacation photos where I was consistently cropped out or positioned at the edges. I was too young to understand what was happening, but I felt the cold distance growing between my mother and me. Everything came to a head during spring break of my second-grade year.
Calvin had planned an elaborate two‑week vacation to Hawaii for the family. I was so excited I could barely sleep for weeks beforehand. I had never been on a real vacation, and the thought of building sandcastles with Mom and maybe finally bonding with my new siblings filled me with hope.
The morning of departure, I woke up early and carefully packed my little purple backpack with my favorite stuffed animal, some books, and the new swimsuit Mom had bought me. I was practically vibrating with excitement as we drove to the airport. Calvin seemed unusually quiet, and Kylie and Noah kept exchanging knowing looks that made me uncomfortable, but I pushed those feelings aside.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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