Chapter 4

A hard life came with my new life.

The outside world was colder than what I had expected.

Well, why wouldn't it?

I was disowned by my own family.

I had left my pack with shame on my shoulders and a swollen belly.

I had no place in this world anymore. Well, not until I found Aunt Abigail.

Home was a concept I thought I had been family with until she showed me hell.

I had thought Aunt Abigail would welcome me with open arms instead she was disgusted like everyone else.

She looked at me like I carried a disease and not a baby.

That first night, which I'll never forget, she said to me with disgust. “I don't run a charity, Skylar.”

“I understand, Aunt.” I had said with my head bowed low.

“Good. I'm glad we speak the same language.” She rose to her feet and began to walk in circles around me.

“You have strong arms and legs too. You'll be an excellent help in the pack,” She said, gripping my arms. “You will work for your keep, Skylar, and when the babies come, they'll work too, in time.”

Will my babies work too?

“Do you understand, Skylar?” she whispered behind my ears.

“Yes, ma'am.” I nodded, my hand instinctively clutching my stomach.

“Good,” she moved her hand to cup my cheek. “I'll take good care of you, you see.”

Tears filled my eyes and I nodded quietly. “Yes, ma'am.”

The months that followed were hell on earth.

I ran errands till I nearly got lost, scrubbed the floors till my knuckles bled, learned how to fake a smile while serving guests and endured insults Aunt Abigail hurled at me.

Sometimes, I thought I'd never see the light of day.

Day after day, the hardship tripled and I almost took my life but when I remembered I was with child, I quickly dismissed the thought.

I held on for him or should I say, them.

I gave birth to 3 tiny miracles. Three sons — Adam, Adrian, and Aria.

The moment I held them in my arms, it felt like the whole world disappeared and it was just us.

They remind me of their father. They all had his raven-black hair and silver eyes — eyes that would grow cold someday.

No, I couldn't let them be like their father. They were mine and for 7 years, they survived.

We survived the cold winters with thin blankets.

We survived hunger on an empty stomach.

We shared short memories of joy and bedtime stories.

We survived Aunt Abigail's cruelty but as they all say, survival has its limits.

One cold morning while I and the twins cleaned the bedrooms upstairs, we heard noise coming from downstairs.

“Mommy, what's that?” Adam stopped scrubbing the floor. He was the most sensitive amongst his brothers.

We all fell quiet.

Suddenly, a familiar cry echoed through the house and I gasped.

“That's Aria!” Adrian rose to his feet.

Without a word, Adam rushed downstairs and we followed after him.

We arrived downstairs and found Aria on the floor, holding his cheek with Aunt Abigail standing over him with a broom.

“Aria!” I screamed.

Aunt Abigail turned to look at me. “Oh, you're here! Tell this stupid son of yours never to sing in this house!”

“Mommy.” Aria sat up. Tears filled his eyes and blood smeared his rosy cheek.

“How could you do that to him! He's just a child!” I walked up to her.

Aunt Abigail snapped. “Why wouldn't I? What is he singing!”

“So you raised a broom on him because he was singing? Are you crazy!” I stepped between them, allowing Adam and Adrian to carry their brother out.

Aunt Abigail scoffed. “Children don't sing when there's work to do.”

Something inside me snapped. “What?”

“You all are slaves in this pack and you're forbidden from singing or talking or even eating! Do you understand!” Aunt Abigail made her point clear by tossing the broom at me.

“Mom!” The boys screamed.

“Don't you dare touch our mother like that!” Adam came up in front of me.

“Mom, are you okay?” Aria took my hand. “Mommy?”

“How dare you, you little brat! Go tend to the garden right now, Skylar!” Aunt Abigail yelled.

Adrian and Adam stood together, their little hands clenched. “No! Our mother isn't going anywhere!”

“What?” Aunt Abigail screamed. “I will teach you both a lesson!”

Beige she could hit them, I caught them in my arms, shielding them from her blows.

As each blow came down on my back, my entire body trembled.

Seven years.

Seven years of silence.

I've endured seven years of cruelty, pain and suffering. Enough was enough.

“Enough.” I said quietly.

Aunt Abigail froze. Her hand stilled in midair as she asked. “What?”

I peeled my children's embrace and took to my feet.

All the rage I've buried inside for so long resurfaced and I yelled. “Enough! They are children, Abigail! My children! I will not let you treat them like slaves anymore!”

Aunt Abigail's face turned an ugly shade of red. “How dare you!”

“No! How dare you treat us this way! We are kin! We are the same but you…” I heaved a shuddering breath. “I'm done!”

“What?”

“We. Are. Done!” I announced, enunciating every word.

A stunned silence fell over the room and Abigail laughed.

“That's fine with me. You are all ashes to begin with. Get out!”

The next thing we knew, we were standing outside in the cold with all belongings tugged in a single duffle bag.

“Where do we go now, mommy?” Aria asked, clutching my hand.

I knelt down and cupped his bandaged cheek. “Home, darling.”

I put my arms around his brothers and pulled them in a warm hug. “We're going home, boys.”

The journey back to the East Side pack was brutal.

The boys hurt their feet from all the walking and complained of hunger. I was lucky to have found a mango tree on the way. So I climbed it and plucked a few for them and we continued our journey.

Our journey was taking hours and the boys needed rest. Adam carried Adrian while I carried Aria. I loved Adam for caring about his brothers but I could tell he needed rest too. I was getting restless and by the time we reached the outskirts of town, I was getting desperate.

I found a restaurant ahead and pleaded with the owner to shelter us for the meantime. The nice lady agreed and we all huddled in a chair outside. She was nice enough to give us a thick blanket to share and I thanked her for it.

As we huddled together, sharing whatever warmth we had, I saw a black Audi drive in.

The driver, a tall lean man with silver hair, stepped out of the driver's seat. As he slammed the car door, something fell out of his coat. I squinted my ears at the object on the floor and realized it was his pocket. Considering how fat it looked, there was money in it.

“Hey, boys. Mommy will be right back. Why don't you ask Miss Lisa for some food and water?” I told them.

Lisa was the owner of the restaurant and she had offered to give us anything we needed.

“Alright, mom.” Adam was the first to get off the chair. Then, he held out his hands for his brothers. “Let's go, boys.”

They got off the chair and turned to enter the restaurant.

As I took a step back, Aria stopped and looked at me. “You're coming back for us, right, mommy?”

Adam took his hand. “Of course. Mom would never leave us.”

“Now, run along. Mommy will be right back.” I smiled at them.

When they disappeared into the restaurant, I looked back at the Black Audi. The owner was gone. Thank Goddess.

My eyes darted left and right as I inched towards the car. When I saw no one was in sight, I snatched the wallet and stuffed it into the purse.

Just before I could turn the other way, a cold hand caught my wrist. “Going somewhere, little thief?”