I wiped my tears dry and made my way to a run-down apartment building. Aunt Harriet had been waiting for me for a long time.
I had nothing left now. Nothing except the aunt who loved me most in this world. She was the only one who had ever truly cared for me, the only one who had ever stood up for me, from the time I was small.
She steadied me with trembling hands as I stepped through the door. "Libby, your hands are freezing. I already made you a cup of your favorite hot cocoa. Drink it while it's warm."
Aunt Harriet was the only family member who had ever been good to me. A car accident years ago had left her paralyzed from the waist down, confined to a wheelchair ever since.
She warmed my icy hands in hers while I sipped the cocoa and poured out everything that had happened.
Her eyes glistened when she heard it all. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart. They don't cherish you, but I do."
I buried my face in her lap and let my whole body go slack. She was the only thing tying me to this place. Every good memory from my childhood had her in it.
She had never been able to stand the way my parents poured everything into Agatha, their precious biological daughter, and blamed me whenever there was a conflict for not yielding to my little sister.
All those countless times they left me behind and went out as a family of three, it was Aunt Harriet who came to pick me up and take me home. In my eyes, she was my real mother.
The thought made my nose sting. I couldn't hold back the quiet sobs. She thought I was cold, and she shifted to wrap her arms around me, pulling me close.
That night, for the first time in what felt like forever, I slept soundly. I didn't wake until the sun was high overhead, the smell of a home-cooked meal drifting into the room. Aunt Harriet had already prepared all my favorite dishes.
She was a wonderful cook, and I ate until I was full and content. She worried about my body after the miscarriage and wanted me to rest and build my strength back up.
"Libby, you stay here and rest. I'm going out to pick up some herbal supplements for you."
She insisted on going alone. All she wanted was for me to stay home and recover. I didn't feel right about it, but there was no arguing with her.
She had barely been gone a minute when I heard a scream.
"Help!"
I threw open the door and found her on the ground, crumpled beside her overturned wheelchair.
"Aunt Harriet!" I dropped to my knees and gathered her up, struggling to lift her. Then I saw the blood covering my hands. A scream tore out of me, and I called an ambulance immediately.
In the back of the ambulance, my breathing came in ragged gasps. She kept drifting in and out of consciousness, mumbling my name. My vision blurred with tears as I pressed close to her, gripping her hand so tight my knuckles went white, terrified that something terrible was happening.
I paced outside the examination room, grabbing every doctor who walked in or out, begging for an update.
The wait dragged on, unbearable. I needed air and turned toward the window, only to come face to face with Frederick and Agatha.
Frederick was at her side, one hand supporting her arm, the other holding a prenatal report.
"Everything looks great. All the markers are normal." He nodded with satisfaction. "This baby is going to be perfectly healthy."
Agatha's face glowed with smugness. "Of course it will. I'm not like my sister, that useless waste who couldn't even keep a baby alive."
I didn't want to see them. I turned to leave, but walked right into them.
"Oh, sis! What are you doing here?" Agatha's voice dripped with mock concern. "Another allergic reaction? Or did you lose another baby?"
Her eyes landed on the worn knitted cap in my hands, and she snatched it away.
"God, how tacky."
"That's my aunt's hat. Give it back." My glare could have cut glass. I ripped it out of her grip.
Aunt Harriet had never had any use for either of them. She only tolerated them for my sake. After her accident left her in a wheelchair, neither of them had visited her once.
Agatha and Frederick exchanged a glance, taking a long moment before they even realized who I was talking about.
"Oh, that crippled old woman?" A cruel smile played across Agatha's lips. "She's still alive?"
"Your aunt was never exactly pleasant, Libby." Frederick reached for my arm. "You should stop wasting your time on that dead weight and come home."
I wrenched free of his hand, spun around, and slapped Agatha across the face. Hard. Again. And again.
Everyone froze. The woman who had always been gentle and composed was now striking with everything she had.
"If you ever insult my aunt again, next time it won't be your face I go after."
Agatha shrieked that I'd lost my mind and lunged at me. I sidestepped at the last second and she flew past, slamming face-first into the wall.
"You bitch!" Agatha howled, blood streaming from her nose as she clutched her face.
Frederick looked between the two of us, both burning with fury, and realized nothing he said would make a difference. He grabbed Agatha and hauled her away.
I looked down at my stinging palm, and for the first time in a long time, something inside me unclenched.
