Chapter One
Blake
I’ll tell you exactly how my life went to hell.
I’m still here for one reason only: my sisters.
Rowan and Willow were innocent. They didn’t deserve our father. Whatever was broken in him, whatever twisted after my mother died, it landed on me. I became the problem. The target. The reminder he couldn’t stand to look at.
Rowan was ten. He spoke to her. Asked about her day. Treated her like she mattered.
Willow was four—too young to do wrong, all wide eyes and soft smiles. She could get away with anything just by existing.
Me? I was a disease.
Every mistake in that house somehow traced back to me. I breathed wrong. Walked too loud. Left things in the wrong place. When my sisters weren’t around, he made sure I felt it. Bruises where no one could see. Words that stuck longer than the pain ever did.
Sometimes I wondered what I had done to deserve it. Being the oldest didn’t explain this. What explained it was resentment. I think he hated me because I was his.
My mom died when I was twelve.
She was on her way to pick me up from soccer practice when someone ran a red light. Killed on impact. Just like that. Gone.
After that, my father became someone else. Or maybe he just stopped pretending.
“If you didn’t need a ride,” he used to say, “she’d still be here.”
As if I had asked the other driver to ignore the light. As if I had planned it. I think what really haunted him was that they never caught the guy who did it. Her killer walked free. And I was the closest thing left to blame.
Home was hell. School wasn’t much better.
I got bullied daily. Not because I was weak. Not because I was ugly. Because I was smart. That alone was enough.
Mateo and Ezra ran the school. Everyone knew it. People whispered their names like warnings. Teachers looked the other way. They did whatever they wanted, and most days, that meant me.
I didn’t fight back. I couldn’t. Giving my father another excuse to hate me wasn’t an option.
Rowan noticed, though. She always noticed. She brought me ice for the black eyes. Made sure I ate when he forgot I existed. At ten years old, she became more of a parent to me than he ever was.
She was my reason for surviving.
There was a girl at school—Piper. Beautiful in a way that didn’t seem real. She didn’t know I existed, and I figured it was better that way. Mateo’s girlfriend, Savannah, was crueler than he was. She went after a girl named Vanessa relentlessly. I saw myself in her. We both just tried to endure until the bell rang.
I wanted out. High school was just something to survive. College was my escape. Doctor, maybe. Anything far away from this town.
That night, I was in my room when I heard him come home.
“BLAKE!”
My stomach dropped.
“What?” I called back.
“Don’t what me. Get down here. Now.”
I went downstairs, already bracing myself.
“Are you seeing this?” he snapped.
“My shoes?” I said.
“Yes. I tripped over them. You’re grounded.”
“For leaving my shoes by the door?”
“For the attitude,” he said. “Move them or I’ll throw them out.”
Willow stood there, watching silently. I moved the shoes and went back upstairs, slamming my door.
I tossed my book across the room. The door flew open.
“Do that again,” he said coldly, “and you’re grounded until graduation.”
“Whatever.”
“You’re ungrateful. I buy you everything.”
“You give me hell,” I said before I could stop myself. “And I didn’t kill Mom. So leave me alone.”
Silence.
“You live in my house,” he said quietly. “And you will respect me if you want to keep living here.”
He left.
A minute later, Willow padded into my room and wrapped her arms around me.
“Are you mad at Daddy?” she asked.
“No,” I lied. “We just don’t get along like you do.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, kiddo. Go play.”
“I love you,” she said, kissing my cheek.
I waited until she left before letting the anger settle back in.
Dinner never came. It was after eight when Rowan knocked and handed me a plate.
“He grounded you,” she said softly.
“For shoes.”
Her face fell. “I wish I could help.”
“You do,” I told her. “Just by being okay.”
“I don’t like that you’re leaving in two years.”
“I’ll come back,” I lied. “I promise.”
Later, my dad left again. I put Willow to bed. Rowan crawled into my bed afterward, curling against me like she always did when he went out.
Sleep didn’t come easily.
Sometime after one, I heard the front door. Laughter. A woman’s voice.
I cracked my door open.
“Charlie, are they asleep?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “They won’t hear anything.”
Disgust burned in my throat.
Then she looked up.
“Charlie,” she said sharply. “We’re being watched.”
He saw me.
“Don’t worry about him,” he said. “I’ll deal with it later.”
Deal with it.
I didn’t sleep after that.
Morning came too fast. Rowan shook me awake.
“He’s looking for you.”
“What else is new.”
“Please,” she whispered.
Downstairs, the woman from last night was still there.
“Blake, this is Amelia,” my father said. “She’s staying.”
“Okay.”
“Rowan, take Willow upstairs.”
Rowan hesitated, fear in her eyes. I smiled at her anyway.
As soon as they were gone, he grabbed my arm and slammed me into the wall.
“You’re lucky I kept you,” he hissed. “You should’ve known you’d be a problem after your mother died. Disrespect me again, or her, and I’ll make you wish you weren’t born.”
He shoved me away.
Lucky he kept me.
I ran upstairs, heart pounding. Rowan followed, asking questions I couldn’t answer.
I didn’t stay.
I grabbed my jacket and ran.
Because if he wasn’t my father—
if I was never supposed to be there—
I needed to know.
And I already had the DNA.
My phone wouldn’t stop vibrating in my pocket.
I didn’t need to look to know who it was.
I ignored the call and kept walking.
If I was already in trouble for leaving, what difference did it make if I added another reason? I reached the police station out of breath, heart pounding harder than it should’ve been.
Inside, the air smelled like disinfectant and coffee. A woman sat behind the front desk.
“What can I help you with?”
“I need a DNA test,” I said.
She raised an eyebrow. “For what purpose?”
“I just need to know something. Can you help me or not?”
“We don’t do DNA tests for free.”
“How much?”
She sighed. “Kid, go home.”
“I can’t,” I said quietly. “I need to know.”
She looked at me like I was wasting her time. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
She picked up the phone.
That was it.
I walked away before she could say anything else. Found another hallway. Another officer.
“Oh—sorry,” he said when we nearly collided. “You shouldn’t be back here.”
“Oh, uh—yeah. I’m just taking something to the lab,” I said, holding up the envelope.
He glanced at it. “New rookie?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Still getting lost.”
He chuckled. “Down the hall, second door on the left.”
“Thanks.”
The lab door was unlocked.
Inside, a woman looked up from her screen. “Can I help you?”
“I—I need these tested,” I said, handing over the samples.
“For what?”
“Paternity.”
She paused. “Is this part of a case?”
“No. I just… really need to know.”
She studied me for a long second. “If I get caught, I’m blaming you.”
“Deal.”
She worked quickly. I stared at the floor, then the wall, then anywhere but her. She was pretty. Too old. Definitely not someone who should be helping a kid sneak a DNA test.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Blake Hastings.”
“And what are you hoping to find out, Blake?”
“I don’t know,” I said. And it was the truth.
She turned the screen toward me.
“There.”
I felt like the floor dropped out from under me.
“Did you get your answer?” she asked gently.
“Yeah,” I said. “Thank you.”
I left before my legs could give out.
He wasn’t my father.
Suddenly everything made sense. The resentment. The cruelty. The way he looked at me like I didn’t belong.
My phone rang again.
I answered.
“Get your ass home. Now.”
“Bite me,” I said, and hung up.
I went to the cemetery instead.
Sat in front of my mom’s grave and stared at her name.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered. “Why let me believe he was my dad for twelve years?”
I felt stupid. Betrayed. Lost.
I didn’t know who I was anymore.
I didn’t want to go home — but Rowan and Willow were there. I couldn’t leave them.
When I walked in, he was already waiting.
“Where the hell were you?”
“Why do you care?”
“You were grounded.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
His face tightened. “Watch your mouth.”
Rowan stood at the top of the stairs. Amelia was in the kitchen.
“You knew,” I yelled. “You knew the whole time. I’m not your son.”
His expression didn’t change.
“Your mother didn’t want you to know.”
“She’s dead,” I shouted. “So that gave you permission to hate me?”
“I don’t hate you.”
“You treated me like trash!”
“If you raise your voice again—”
“Do whatever you want,” I said. “I’m done caring what you think.”
I ran upstairs and locked my door.
I cried.
I hated that I cried.
Rowan knocked. Then Charlie.
I unlocked the door and crawled into bed.
“I raised you,” he said. “I care about you.”
“After Mom died, you treated me like garbage.”
“I wasn’t perfect,” he said. “But you’re still mine.”
“No,” I said. “I’m not.”
“You’re a Hastings.”
“Whatever.”
He left.
I threw a book. Nearly hit Rowan.
She stepped inside anyway.
“So… he’s not your dad.”
“Nope.”
“That explains a lot,” she said softly. “Please don’t leave.”
“I won’t.”
She made me promise.
The next morning came too fast.
Amelia handed me a lunch on my way out.
Charlie never had.
At school, I opened my locker and got slammed into it.
Ezra laughed. Mateo finished the job.
I hit the floor.
“Are you okay?”
I looked up.
Piper.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“They’re awful,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
She walked away.
And for the first time in a long time—
I smiled.
