3: 3
3
Mom and Dad traded one panicked glance, then snapped their composure back into place almost instantly.
They knew exactly what they'd done, played dumb, and turned it right back on me.
"Is that any way to talk to your elders? No manners at all!"
I fought my temper down and shot back.
"First you'd have to give me a chance to be raised at all before you get to lecture me about manners."
Because eighteen years ago, after I helped Thaddeus get away, I spent countless days pressed against the iron bars, waiting for him and Mom and Dad to come back for me.
But the others in the compound told me it was rainforest out there.
Without someone on the outside to meet you, no one got out alive.
Maybe my brother had already been torn apart by wild animals.
I felt guilty about it for days.
Until one of the traffickers got drunk, patted my face, and slurred out that I was his little cash cow.
That was when I understood: I hadn't set my brother free.
Mom and Dad had already paid the deposit to have the traffickers let him go on purpose.
And I was the child always meant to be taken.
I ran through every possibility I could think of and still couldn't understand why they'd abandoned me on purpose.
It wasn't until Brian showed up that I finally understood everything…
I was still lost in it when Edna's voice pulled me back.
"Mom, Dad, the way Agnes is acting now, could it be the early signs of mental illness?"
"She was in that place for so many years. She might have turned into a full-on sociopath by now."
"I'm just worried. When our brother's ready to settle down and get married, what if Agnes shows up and terrifies his future wife…"
That was when it clicked, why the Masons doted on Edna and not on Brian.
Because Edna's words snapped them awake in an instant.
Mom was the first to drop the act, seizing the opening.
"Right. Maybe we should send Agnes to a psychiatric ward first."
"Once Edie's marriage is settled, we can bring Agnes back. No harm in that."
On the surface Mom was asking Dad what he thought.
But she was really saying it for me to hear.
And I knew perfectly well that the second they put me in there, it would be them dropping me into another hell, one I'd never get out of again.
I didn't shout, didn't make a scene. Instead I politely showed the old doctor to the door.
When I came back, click, I locked it behind me without a word.
My face went dark. I grabbed the chair beside me and drove them back, step by step.
Edna went stiff with fear and shrank away.
"What are you doing, Agnes?"
I smiled, warm as could be, and answered in her exact tone.
"Every field has its standards and requirements. I imagine a psychiatric ward is the same."
"So if you want to have me committed, first I'll have to prove I really am crazy."
Brian looked terrified and quickly lowered his voice to talk me down.
"Sis, where there's life there's hope. Don't do anything rash."
I ignored him completely, forced them all into the corner, and raised the chair high over my head.
Edna screamed.
The whole family curled up like startled quail, squeezing their eyes shut.
But the pain they braced for never came.
When they finally cracked their eyes open, trembling,
I was already pointing at Thaddeus, doubled over laughing.
"Aren't you the one who loves playing the perfect big brother? So how come, the moment things get real, you're the one hiding in the very back?"
"With a spine like that, if you never land a wife someday, you've really got the nerve to blame me for scaring her off?"
Humiliated and furious as he was, Thaddeus still had enough fear of the chair in my hands that he didn't dare move an inch.
After all, he was afraid I really was crazy.
I took the chance to stick out my hand at them. "Money. I want to buy something."
To salvage that pitiful scrap of pride, Thaddeus stayed frozen where he was.
The rest of them fumbled out their phones with shaking hands and started transferring me money, none of them daring to make a sound.
Then I glanced at Brian's work uniform and asked him.
"You make delivery runs, don't you? Buy me something and bring it over."
Brian caught on at once, whipped out his phone, and pulled up his favorites like he was presenting a treasure.
"Sis, you asked the right person."
"What do you want to eat, cake? Iced coffee?"
I gave him a wicked little smile. "All of it."
"But mainly, grab me a stun baton. That's the thing I handle best."
The words were barely out of my mouth when Thaddeus, who'd been stubbornly stiffening his neck to act tough, jerked up his phone like he'd been shocked and rushed a hundred thousand into my account.
He even quietly added a note: "Just ask if it's not enough."
