Dad was in the middle of a meeting when he received the call. Without a second thought, he rushed home.
As soon as he arrived, he carried a pale Wendy and roared, “You are my daughter, Wendy. No one can send you away!
“Don’t say a word about leaving again.”
At first, I thought something serious had happened, but when I stepped out of my room and saw the scene before me, the bitter irony wasn’t lost on me.
I was speechless. Wendy was no delicate porcelain doll, nor was she afraid of the dark. A short time in the storage room hardly warranted such theatrics.
That was until Ian shouted, “It’s all Jennifer’s fault! She’s the one who locked Wendy in the storage room! Who knows how long she would’ve been trapped if I hadn’t come back!”
Dad stormed upstairs, dragged me out of my room by my hair, and shoved me into the storage closet. Tying me up, he raged, and in that moment, I finally understood—this family had no place for me.
“How could you be so evil, Jennifer?!” Ian yelled, his eyes blazing with anger. “How could you lock Wendy up? She’s just a girl! Do you even know how scared she must have been? You’re not my sister anymore! I refuse to have someone so evil as my sister!”
“Ian is right,” Dad growled, his glare cutting through me like a knife.
“How could you be so heartless at such a young age? You’re hopeless.
“This is my house, and you have no right to order anyone around here.
“You like locking Wendy in the storage closet, huh? Fine! Then you can stay in there until you understand how it feels!
