That night, I stood there, staring at the bed with the blue sheets, not knowing what to do.

"William, why are you on the floor?"

Mom's voice came from the doorway.

I shrank back into the corner when I heard her, arms wrapped tight around myself.

The mattress was too soft. When I lay on it, it sank under me, like something was pressing me down.

In the behavioral correction center, we slept on concrete. In winter, the cold cut straight through your spine and into your insides, but at least it was solid. Solid things wouldn't swallow you.

"Come on, get in the bed. The floor's cold."

I shook my head stubbornly.

Mom pulled me up anyway and set me on the mattress.

The moment the door clicked shut, I slid off again, quiet as I could, and curled back into the corner.

With my back against the wall, I could close my eyes. That was the only way I knew how to sleep and wake up alive.

The next morning at breakfast, Dad sat at the head of the table, talking on the phone.

"Hey, Mike. Yeah, we got him back. I'm telling you, it worked better than I expected. You remember what Judy was like. The second we sent William in, she straightened out. Her college acceptance letter's right there on the table."

He wasn't even trying to hide how pleased he was.

"Think about it. Three years of training one kid, and you get a top college graduate out of it. That's a pretty good return."

Three years of "training."

That was what he called it.

I sat there, pushing the oatmeal around in my bowl. My hands weren't shaking anymore because my whole arm had gone numb.

Judy set her bowl down. "Dad, can you not talk about that on the phone?"

"Talk about what? I'm just telling it like it is."

"William's sitting right here."

Dad glanced at me.

It wasn't how you look at your son. It was how you look at something you built.

"He understands. What he went through had a purpose."

He softened his voice, like he thought it made him sound gentle.

"William, are you happy your sister got into a good college?"

I nodded.

"That's what I thought."

That afternoon, Judy came into my room with a plate of fruit. She pushed the door, which was mostly closed, and crouched down in front of me.

"William, those three years… What was it like?"

My fingers tightened on the blanket.

Vincent's voice echoed in my head. "Watch your mouth when you get out."

"It was…fine," I said.

"You keep stopping when you talk. You didn't use to do that."

I used to…?

My eyes drifted to the photo on the wall.

The boy in the photo had short hair and a lean build, muscle defined beneath the fabric. He was clad in a tracksuit, running across the court as if nothing could touch him.

Was that me?

It couldn't be.

Vincent said I was born wrong, said I would always be a runt. At best, I was just something for people to use.

"I've…always been like this."

Judy went quiet for a second, then asked, "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Yes. Everywhere.

My legs had been broken and set wrong. My left ear barely worked.

There were dark bruises across my lower stomach. Every time I came out of the isolation room, I would hit myself with a stick.

And there were worse injuries in places I couldn't even look at.

"No."

Her hands clenched, then slowly loosened.

"Can you roll up your sleeves? Let me see."

I pulled my arms behind me.

"Judy!"

Dad's voice came from the living room.

"What are you doing in there? Don't push him. The instructor said kids who got out just needed time. Take it slow."

Judy stood up and walked to the door, then looked back at me.

It seemed like she wanted to say something, but in the end she only said, "The apple's sweet. Try some."

The door closed.

Dad's voice came through the wall, muffled.

"Look at you now. You got into a top college. That's all I ever wanted. Everything William went through was for you. Once he settles in, we'll send him overseas for school. Two college kids. That's perfect."

I picked up a slice of apple and put it in my mouth.

Was it sweet? I couldn't tell.

My tongue didn't work right anymore.

Mom came in again, picked up a slice, and held it out to me.

"William, your dad wants to have a family dinner on Saturday. We're celebrating Judy getting into college. Your Uncle Ronan and Uncle Chester are coming. You should come out and say hello."

Dad's voice followed from outside.

"Act right. Don't embarrass me."

####CHAPTER-NAME:

Saturday evening.

Relatives and a few of Dad's business partners started arriving one after another. The living room was filled with noise.

I stood at the turn of the stairs, too afraid to go down.

More than five people together meant being surrounded and talked down to.

"William, come down here."

Dad's eyes hardened. For a second, all I saw was Vincent's face.

I walked over slowly and stopped in the middle of the room. Dad put a hand on my shoulder, smiling like he was showing something off.

"Come on, everyone. Take a look at William. It's been three years. Doesn't he look completely different?"

Uncle Ronan gave me a once-over and smiled. "Well, look at that. He's put on some weight. And he's gotten quiet, too. Not the same kid at all."

"Exactly."

Dad patted my shoulder.

"You all remember what Judy was like. I sent William to that place, and she straightened out overnight. Now, look at her. She got into a top college."

He pointed at the banner and the framed copy of the letter on the wall.

"Two birds, one stone."

He glanced back at me.

"Go on, William. Say hi to Uncle Ronan. Show everyone how well-behaved you are now."

I opened my mouth.

"H-Hello, Uncle Ronan."

Aunt Marie stepped forward and took my hand.

"See that? He's polite and calm now, so much better than before. No one liked how wild he used to be."

I flinched.

"So what did they teach you in there, William? Pick up any skills? Why don't you show us something?"

"Yes, come on, give us a little show," a few others said.

Dad looked at me, his expression making it clear I didn't have a choice.

"Recite something. Anything you remember."

My lips moved. The only line in my head was the one I said every day.

I was livestock. I didn't deserve to be human.

"I-I can't."

Dad's smile faltered for a second.

"He's shy. Don't push him."

He waved it off, but his eyes cut straight through me.

"Sit down. After dinner, do better."

Uncle Chester had a couple drinks in him, and his voice grew louder. "Paul, your boy really changed. How'd you even think of something like this?"

"I didn't have much choice."

Dad poured himself another glass of wine, relaxing into it.

"You didn't see what Judy was like back then. She was skipping school, getting into fights, dating boys. She didn't listen, and punishment didn't work either.

"Then my friend, Mike, told me about that place. I figured punishing her wasn't getting anywhere. Better to let her see what punishment looks like."

"So you sent William instead?"

"Exactly. Worked right away."

My cousin, Nathaniel Easton, came up behind me with a glass decanter. He leaned in and casually set a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't touch me!"

I shot to my feet like I had been shocked.

The decanter tipped over and shattered on the floor.

Everyone turned.

Nathaniel froze. "I was just pouring you some wine…"

Dad's face darkened.

"William, he was offering you wine."

Aunt Marie stepped in quickly.

"It's fine, it's fine. He's just a little shy…"

She reached out and touched my head.

As her fingers pressed down on me, my knees buckled on instinct. I dropped to the floor, arms over my head, curling in tight.

"I'll be good! Don't hit me, don't hit me! I'm sorry!"

My knees hit the tile.

"I'll say it. I'm livestock. I don't deserve to be human. Please don't hit me again!"

Glasses froze midair. Forks stopped halfway.

Every pair of eyes in the room locked on me.

"Enough!"

Dad rushed over and grabbed my arm, hauling me up.

"What are you doing? In front of everyone? Are you hell-bent on embarrassing me?"

"I'm sorry, sir! I'll do whatever you say!"

I couldn't see Dad anymore. Just concrete walls, iron bars, and fluorescent lights glaring into my eyes.

"Let him go!"

Judy's voice came from somewhere far away. She stepped between us and pulled me back toward the corner.

"Don't touch him. You're making it worse!"

The room fell apart.

My relatives exchanged looks. Someone was already reaching for their coat.

"Let's…call it a night."

Mom's voice shook.

"I'm so sorry. H-He's not feeling well."

####CHAPTER-NAME:

The living room stayed quiet for a long time.

Dad sat on the couch without saying a word, cigarette after cigarette burning down between his fingers.

Mom cleared the table in silence.

I stayed crouched in the corner, shaking so hard that I couldn't stop.

"William."

Dad crushed out the last cigarette.

"Did you have fun tonight? Acting like that in front of everyone. How do you think that makes me look?"

Judy spoke up, "Dad, don't…"

"Shut up. I'm talking to him."

He walked over and stood in front of me, looking down.

"Answer me. Do you hate me?"

"No, I don't… I wouldn't dare." I shook my head quickly.

"If you don't, then what was that? Everything I've done was for this family, and you come back and make a scene the first night?"

"I didn't… I didn't mean to…"

"Someone offers you a drink, and you start yelling? Then you're on the floor, making a spectacle in front of everyone? What was that about? Do you have any idea your Uncle Ronan walked out and texted everyone that my son's lost his mind?"

He bent down and jabbed a finger against my forehead.

"Who do you think you are? Are you trying to tear this family apart?"

Mom set the last plate down and crouched beside me.

"William, your dad has a temper, but he's not wrong. He's doing this for your own good. You're not a kid anymore. You need to try to understand him."

Her hand moved gently through my hair.

"You have no idea how much he worried about you these past three years. He called the center every month and watched every video they sent. Every time, he'd say that you're doing fine, you've put on weight, or you're calmer now."

There was even comfort in her voice.

"You have to see it from his side. He's had it harder than anyone. He just doesn't say it."

He had it harder than anyone?

He watched those videos of me quietly writing in my book, and told himself everything was fine.

He never saw what was outside the frame: the instructor holding a whip, the lighting set just right, the staged background.

All of it was fake.

Then again, maybe he didn't want to see it.

"Fine. Looks like you still don't get it."

Dad walked to the end of the hall and opened a door.

"Get in there. Cool off. If you don't figure it out by tomorrow, I'll send you back."

My legs locked at the doorway.

It looked exactly like that isolation room.

"No… Please don't…"

"Get in."

"Please don't lock me in… Please don't put me back in there…"

"Lock you in? What are you talking about? You just need time to think. I did the same thing with your sister when she acted up. Now go!"

"No…"

"Dad, you can't…!" Judy rushed over.

"You want to start, too? None of you ever make things easy for me!"

He shoved Judy aside with one hand and pushed me forward with the other.

"Dad…"

I stumbled inside, my shoulder hitting a stack of boxes.

The door slammed shut behind me, and the lock clicked.

Darkness swallowed everything.

"No… Don't lock it!"

Everything fell away. All that was left were flashes of fear.

The whip with barbs. The clamps biting into skin. Men laughing as they closed in, hands already at their belts.

From the living room, I could faintly hear Dad's voice.

"Let him calm down. He'll stop in a minute."

Then, I heard Judy.

"Dad, open the door! He can't stay in there!"

"I know how to handle my own son. Go to your room!"

The voices faded. Right then, I knew that one was coming.

In the dark, Vincent's voice came back.

"Still not listening? Then you stay in until you do."

And the others.

"Runt. Runt. You enjoying this?"

My back hit the wall.

My foot bumped into something.

A wire.

This house wasn't the same as that place. Back there, I had tried to die more times than I could count, but it never worked.

I always held onto one thought: I would go home. I would go back to Dad and Mom, and everything would be okay.

Now, I was back.

And yet, Dad had locked me in another dark room.

Nothing had changed.

Except now, I had a choice.

Mom said Dad loved me. Maybe I was too stupid to understand that kind of love.

I looped the wire over a hanger and pulled it tight around my neck. My feet left the ground. For a moment, I struggled on instinct.

And then, I went still.