When I was a child, my mom passed away, and my dad and I had to figure things out on our own. For a while, we were like a team. But then he remarried Kelly. And she never liked me, and she made sure I was aware of it.
From the beginning, she appeared to be jealous of me, as if I was competing for my dad’s love. After my 17th birthday, when he had a tragic car accident and died, Kelly became my sole guardian.
There was no extended family to offer assistance. No friends of my parents. It was just me and her. In a way, I was glad I wasn’t sent to a group home. But she still didn’t like me.
As I walked up the driveway, I attempted to shake off the heaviness that thinking about her always brought. I focused on my dream that had sustained me through all her mean words and actions: college.
Today was the day I was supposed to receive my acceptance letter. My escape plan was finally becoming a reality.
But when I opened the front door, a wave of heat hit me. It didn’t make sense. It was spring in the South! The air outside was already hot, but inside, it felt like a sauna.
The sound of the crackling fire made me look into the living room. I dropped my bag and stood there, frozen, watching Kelly sitting beside the roaring fireplace, staring into the flames.
“Kelly,” I asked cautiously, “why is the fireplace on?”
She didn’t even glance at me. She just smiled a cold, sharp smile that made my stomach churn. “Oh, don’t worry, dear. I just thought you should watch your college dreams go up in smoke.”
My breath caught in my throat. “What?” I croaked as I moved closer.
She lazily pointed at the fire, and I could see the remnants of what appeared to be a large envelope and some papers that were now ashes.
“Your acceptance letter arrived,” she said casually. “But you don’t need it. You’re going to work at my café this summer and for a long time to thank me for being such a great stepmom. College isn’t for someone like you.”
