Rebecca shot me a venomous look before staggering out of my room.

I set the porcelain doll down on the table, my fingers trembling uncontrollably.

...

In the dead of night.

I was yanked from my bed with brute force and slammed onto the freezing floor.

My knees and elbows screamed with pain.

I looked up to find my father's furious eyes on me, his words a torrent of anger.

"How vicious you are despite being so young, Joanna. You know your sister's allergic to acrylic; she can't even touch it.

"How could you leave that dirty thing in our home?! Were you trying to off her?!"

He was holding my porcelain doll.

"No, Dad," I pleaded, crawling toward him, pain forgotten in my desperation.

"It's not the doll. I swear it doesn't have any acrylic, it really doesn't!

"Please, just give it back to me, please? It's the only thing I have left from my mom!"

I tried to grab it, but he shoved me back hard, and I tumbled to the floor once more.

"No excuses!" Nash's fury was boiling over as he jabbed a finger at the doll.

"Ever since your sister came out of your room, she's been covered in rashes and can barely breathe. The doctor says it's an acrylic allergy. What else could it be, if not this junky toy?"

He lifted his arm.

"Please, no!"

Crash!

The porcelain doll lay in pieces before me.

"Mom… Mom!"

I crouched and shakily tried to gather the broken fragments. Alas, no matter how gently I tried, the doll was beyond repair.

It was not until the next day, when Rebecca walked by my room, that I started to snap out of it. I picked myself up off the floor.

I had someone clear out the room.

Silently, I moved to the desk, my eyes landing on the dusty family portrait.

There they were, Rebecca and Nash. Her smile was so bright that it hurt to look at.

Outside, the sky was a menacing shade of gray.

I set the photo on fire with a lighter, and I watched in silence as it turned to ash.

...

In the days that followed, I kept my tears and tantrums to myself. Slowly but surely, I let out the news and proof of my dad ditching his first love.

Seeing him run around like a headless chicken gave me a twisted sense of satisfaction.

By the time I left Cascade City, Rebecca and Nash's world had crumbled.

The day before I took off, Calvin showed up at the Smiths'.

"Heard you're heading to Zephyr City," he said, his voice so flat I could not read him.

"Yeah," I muttered, not even looking up as I shuffled through some papers that did not matter anymore.

He took a step closer, and I could feel the weight of an unseen pressure bearing down on me.

"Zephyr City's a real maze, with secrets as deep as the ocean. Wouldn't you rather stay in Cascade City? I'm here, at least." There was a worry in his eyes that I did not recognize.

I swiftly, icily replied, "I can handle myself, Mr. Porter. You should save your concern for yourself."

A dark cloud passed through his eyes before he grabbed my arm, his grip so tight that it felt like my bones might snap.

"Joanna, you can ask me for one favor–as long as it doesn't hurt Rebecca. I owe you that much."

I looked down, thinking to myself, 'Yeah, you owe me big time, from a whole other life.'

Right then, Rebecca strolled up, all smiles, hooking her arm through Calvin's. "Calvin, Jo, what's all the serious talk about?"

Calvin's grip on my hand vanished instantly.

I did not even want to spare them a second glance, so I turned and walked away.

I could feel the sting of Rebecca's glare on my back.

Soon enough, their laughter was a mere echo behind me.

…

The next morning, I grabbed my bags, ready to hit the road.

However, the moment I stepped outside, the world went pitch black, and I was out cold.

When I came to, I was tied to a chair.

"Awake?" asked one of the guys, flashing a grin.

I forced myself to stay cool and think fast.

After mentally crossing off everyone else, I deduced this had to be Rebecca's doing.

I looked up at my captor, my voice edged with suspicion. "Did Rebecca put you up to this? How much did she pay you?"

The two kidnappers locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. Their gaze was shifty, and they did not say a word, just let out a creepy chuckle before slamming the iron door shut.

I wriggled my wrists frantically, ignoring the searing pain as I worked my way out of the ropes.

Stealthily, I crept to the door.

Outside, I could hear a man's voice, clear as day.

"Ms. Smith, we've got the person you wanted, right where you told us. Now, where's the cash? The last fifty thousand, when's it coming?"

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my skin, drawing blood I barely felt.

'So it is you, Rebecca,' I thought bitterly.

"What? No, we can't do this. Don't you realize how serious this is?" The man's voice spiked with anxiety.

...

Whatever they were discussing, his voice eventually dropped to a murmur.

I moved slowly, crawling to the window on all fours, squeezed my eyes shut, and leapt.

I hit the ground with a jolt of pain in my ankle, but I pushed through it, limping as I called Calvin.

He picked up right away.

"Calvin, you owe me a favor, and I'm calling it in. Come get me. Rebecca's behind this, and I have no clue where I am."

Silence hung on the line for a few seconds before Calvin's chuckle broke through.

"Rebecca's just trying to scare you straight. She's too nice to actually hurt you. Just chill out, they'll let you go once they've had their fun."

"Calvin, you have to believe me! They're going to..." I was not finished when a voice rang out.

"Calvin, isn't this necklace pretty?"

"I'm busy with Rebecca. We're looking at jewelry. Don't bother me again."

The line went dead.

"Freeze!" The angry shout came from behind me.

In a moment of sheer desperation, I called the last person I ever thought I would turn to: my sworn enemy.

No sooner had the call gone through than I was slammed to the ground by two burly guys.

"You think you can run? You think you can call for help?!" one snarled, his face a mask of fury as he delivered a brutal kick to my waist. Pain exploded through me, and I curled up instinctively.

They dragged me back to the warehouse.

The man spat on the ground in disgust before storming out, leaving me alone with my fading consciousness.

After what felt like an eternity, the heavy iron door creaked open, and Elliott Reynolds stepped in, silhouetted against the light.

His familiar, nonchalant drawl broke the silence. "Wow, look at you. A few days out of sight and you turn into a total mess."