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"Sorry, I… I'll clean it up. I'll take a seat in the car behind us. Sorry I, uh, sorry I dirtied the place."

Lawrence stopped moving again and looked at me suspiciously. A tense moment later, he extended his hand and tried to check my temperature.

The sight of his encroaching hand made me freeze. I knew I shouldn't move away, or it would make him mad. I used to worry about making him mad. Every time he got angry, he would mock me relentlessly like I was the most worthless thing in the world.

It was embarrassing and heartbreaking for me. I remained stiffly in my seat, but I told myself not to move away.

However, the moment his fingers touched me, I had that feeling of a slimy serpent coiling itself around my body again, and I dodged his touch.

Lawrence's hand froze in midair. He was looking at me, and I could sense his impatience and frustration. My head was starting to spin again.

I shook my head, but he was gone. In his place was my grandfather, bedridden and hooked up to all kinds of machines.

The hospital stopped my grandfather's treatment because I failed to get a loan and pay the bills. I was kneeling beside my grandfather, crying in an ugly manner.

It took my grandfather everything he had just to say something, but he forced a smile and asked, "How are they treating you, sweetheart?"

I covered my face and sobbed my heart out. Even though my parents cared about Yvette more than they did about me, even though Yvette was hostile toward me for some reason, even though Lawrence despised me, and even though no one liked me at all, through my sobs, I replied, "They've been treating me great."

My grandfather extended his hand, trying to pat me. "You found your family, sweetheart. A loving one."

Before I could get closer to him, he closed his eyes. Forever.

I blinked, and a drop of tear fell.

Lawrence wanted to scold me, but he swallowed his words and looked at me. In the end, he said nothing and coolly told the driver to drive away.

I wiped my tears with my sleeve and curled up in the corner, trying my best to stay inconspicuous. Everything around me was blurry. I hugged my legs, thinking, 'If only Lawrence had helped me, Grandpa could've been saved. I could've never taken out that loan. This mess could've never happened.'

Yeah, if only.

The car came to a stop, but the inertia pushed me ahead, and I bumped my head against the back of the front seat. My wound—now with scabs—threatened to rip open again.

Lawrence took a glance at me. "What's with your forehead?"

I covered my forehead and said nothing. All I did was shake my head.

He didn't press further. Lawrence got out of the car and left me to my devices as he strode into the Marlins' estate.

I got into the house and wanted to get upstairs and jump into the shower. When I was undressing myself, I took off the tattered glove, revealing my left hand. There were no wounds, but my pinky was bent at an unnatural angle.

I did it to myself. I broke it, and my tormentors laughed in glee before they would give me some scraps.

This was also a reminder of my experience. This was something I would carry with me all my life to remind me I must stay vigilant. Always.

I took a shower, changed into clean clothes, put on my glove, and went back downstairs.

It was time for dinner. My mother couldn't believe I was back. She waved at me and grumbled, "Where have you been? You couldn't even call us?"

I thought this was a little unfair to me. Just when I was about to talk to my mother, someone interrupted us.

"How do I look, Mom?" Yvette came fluttering down like some kind of fairy. She was in a dress I'd never seen before.

Arrogant Lawrence

That grabbed my mother's attention, and she looked away from me. "You look great."

Yvette just stood there and smirked at me. "You're wearing an awful lot, Eve."

Everyone turned their attention to me. I met Yvette's eyes, and her gaze was sardonic. My heart skipped a beat, but I did not talk back like I used to. I composed myself and was about to say something, but Yvette held my mother's arms, smiling sweetly.

"I bought the same dress for Eve, too, Mom."

Mom nodded, apparently happy that Yvette was so thoughtful.

Yvette looked at me again. I did not miss the malice in her eyes. "Do you want to get changed, Eve?"

I stayed quiet, thinking about my scars. I declined, "No, thank you."

Yvette looked hurt, and she forced an answer. "O-Oh, alright."

Lawrence did not look happy at all. He gave me a glance. Maybe it was a warning, but he didn't make it too obvious. After all, he was a guest in someone else's house.

My mother noticed my clothes and frowned. She lectured, "Yvette's just being kind."

Yvette paled, as if on command. I had no idea humans could do that. She forced a smile as if Mom had just brought up something sad for her. "It's alright, Mom. I can understand why she hates me."

I did not talk back to Mom or call Yvette a hypocrite like I used to. I fell silent for a while and answered, "Thanks for the gift, then."

Whatever my mother wanted to say to me, she choked on it. Lawrence was surprised as well.

We started dinner, and my mother eagerly filled my plate with food. Unlike my old self, I kept thanking her. That shocked her so much, she nearly checked if I had a fever. I did not.

She heaved a sigh of relief and said nothing. Instead, she gave me back the card she had taken from me. "Your father and I were worried sick when you left the house, Eve. We'll never try to control you again. Here's your card. Your father put some money into the bank."

I gripped the card tightly and loosened up. This card came too late.

Yvette's knuckles were white from how hard she was holding her fork. She kept staring at me, and when I met her eyes, she smiled again. "Law, you still haven't given Eve any present."

She leaned forward just to get closer to Lawrence. The necklace that was perched on her collarbone slid down, and it stood out. I remembered that necklace. I saw it in an auction, and Lawrence was there as well.

I adored the necklace, but I didn't have enough money. Lawrence told me he would buy the necklace for my birthday if I behaved myself.

And now Yvette was wearing it.

Lawrence looked at me and, as if he wanted to explain himself, spoke. "The necklace goes better with Yvette, so…"

'So, you gave it to her,' I finished in my mind.

I hung my head low and said quietly, "It's alright. You can give the necklace to whoever you want."

'You don't have to tell me. I know you hate me,' I thought. I cleaned my hands and stood up.

"Thanks for the food. Enjoy the rest of your dinner, Mom. You, too, Mr. Seinfield."

As I expected, Lawrence gave me a surprised but satisfied look. I got to the second floor and ran into him at the corner.

Lawrence was leaning on the wall, playing with his lighter. He puffed a ring of smoke, but I stood in my place. I did not pounce at him like the old me would. He arched an eyebrow. This was not what he was used to, but he seemed happy about it.

"So, you really have learned your place, Yvonne." Lawrence tucked his lighter away and closed in on me.

The stench of tobacco was taking over the air around me. It choked me, and I scrambled backward. Lawrence stopped in his tracks and did not go any further.

He looked at me and, as if he was pitying me, spoke. "That necklace belongs to Yvette, but since you behaved yourself, I can also give you a present."

Refusal

"Tell me, what do you want?" However, he thought I would make an unreasonable demand, so he quickly added, "Only jewelry, though. You can forget about anything else."

I looked at his face, trying to search for a hint of the Lawrence I knew. It was at a banquet where we first met, and the other rich girls were mocking me. It was years ago.

Back in that little town, my grandfather was the only one I was close to. He had no idea what was trendy among us girls, and he'd spent most of his savings on my school fees. I would never bother him just to get the latest stuff.

Even though my grandfather got me cheap, gaudy clothes, I wore them, nonetheless. He had no idea about jeans or their popularity. Sometimes he would even cut out cloth to make clothing for me. "If a girl wants to look lively, she needs to wear more color."

That fashion sense stuck with me even after I was taken back to the Marlins. My mother asked Yvette to teach me, but I could never find her, so I took things into my own hands.

And thus, I made an embarrassment out of myself. My self-esteem was nonexistent and I had no idea how to talk back. Lawrence helped me out and mocked them relentlessly. The ladies almost cried.

Solemnly, he said to me, "You can't be this much of a coward. If someone tries to push you around, push them back. Punch them in the face if you have to."

"What if they don't want to be friends with me?"

"Would you rather be bullied or feared? If they don't want to be friends with you, I will."

That stuck with me for more than five years, but then, right in public, Lawrence called me a bully and an arrogant toerag. Yet, they were the ones who made the first move.

There was not a trace of care or protection left on him. All he had for me was impatience and disdain. He bent his head and urged, "What will it be? Don't push your luck."

I put my hands behind my back. With my right hand, I held my left pinky. Yes, the deformed one. The throbbing pain was a constant reminder of the torment I suffered thanks to Lawrence.

When I pleaded for mercy, I told my tormentors who I was and gave them Lawrence's number. It was a number I knew by heart, and it was the user behind that number that broke what was left of my dignity.

Lawrence answered, "The daughter of the Marlins? Her name is Yvette, not Yvonne! I don't know any woman who goes by that name!" He even castigated the loan sharks, and that made them mad.

They had to vent on someone, and that someone was me. They made me slap myself until my face was swollen like a crimson balloon. Even then, they did not stop until my gums were screaming in pain.

My swollen face made it hard to eat. Even buns felt like rocks to my teeth. My tormentors squashed the buns underneath their feet and stuffed the black, dirty… thing into my mouth.

That memory made my stomach churn. I held back my urge to retch and pinched my deformed pinky. The pain kept me awake. "Sorry, I don't have anything I want right now."

A frown creased Lawrence's forehead. He looked at me dubiously and warned, "Remember what you said. Don't come to me later. I don't have any patience for you."

"Yeah." All I wanted was for him to leave. "I won't."

Lawrence didn't press for answers. Maybe he wasn't planning to give me anything anyway. "You'd better not."

He started walking away, but then he stopped. With his back turned to me, he said darkly, "I gave that necklace to Yvette. Don't go after her for that." He strode off before I could say anything.