Chapter 1
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On my eighteenth birthday, my stepmother, Sharon, sent me a text. She demanded I return every single dollar of child support my
father had given me over the years.
If I didn’t, she was going to come to my school and make my life a living hell.
I tried to be patient. [This is court–ordered child support from my father. If you have an issue with it, you need to talk to him.]
That’s when she exploded.
[You’re a fucking adult now, why the hell should you get my husband’s money! I swear, you’re just like your mother, a common who-
re!]
[Give the money back now, or I’ll make sure you can’t even finish high school!]
Reading her venomous words about my mother, I started shaking with rage. The patience was gone. I was done.
[Fine,] I typed back, my fingers flying. [You want to come? Fucking try me.]
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I stared at the word “whore,” my chest heaving with anger. I immediately screenshotted Sharon’s vile rant and forwarded it to my
father.
[Get your wife under control!] I added.
[My mother has done nothing to you people. You’re the one who owes her. Who the hell does she think she is, calling my mom na- mes?]
Seconds after I hit send, my phone rang. It was my dad, Robert. But before I could even say hello, I heard Sharon’s hysterical scre-
aming in the background.
“You little bitch! How dare you tattle on me! I want my husband’s money back, and you have no right to refuse! That’s our joint mari-
tal property, and if you don’t return it, you can kiss your high school diploma goodbye!”
Before I could get a word in, she snatched the phone and continued her tirade. “And I’m going to go to that whore mother of yours‘
workplace! That job is all she has to support the two of you! Let’s see how high and mighty she acts when she’s unemployed!”
My jaw clenched so hard it ached. I held the phone tight and spat back, “Fine, you psycho! Bring it on! You dare show your face at
my mom’s job, and I swear, I’ll drop out of school just to go to your son’s and make sure every single person there knows his mother
is nothing but a cheap tramp who slept her way into a marriage!”
“You call my mom a whore? What does that make you? Something lower than the trash they sweep out of a brothel!”
I had completely lost it.
Sharon was stunned into silence, realizing I wasn’t the pushover she thought I was. “You just wait,” she snarled, before hanging up.
My heart leaped into my throat. I was terrified the crazy woman would actually go after my mom. I grabbed my backpack and bolt-
ed out the door. I’d barely made it to the entrance of our apartment complex when my friend called.
“Jessica, you need to get over here! It’s bad!”
My mind went blank. I ran, sprinting like my life depended on it, all the way to my mom’s office. Before I could even push through the crowd that had gathered, I heard Sharon’s voice, amplified by a bullhorn.
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Sharon stood in the center of the spectacle, holding my mom by the collar of her shirt like a helpless animal. My mom, her face
flushed with shame, was trying to explain.
“That’s not true!” Her eyes were red with desperation. “Sharon, please, don’t lie!”
“You can say whatever you want about me,” my mom pleaded, “but you can’t slander my daughter!”
“Oh, please!” Sharon spat, cutting her off. “Your little bitch was just demanding more money from my husband today! Don’t you dare deny it! Like mother, like daughter. A whore gives birth to a little whore. You’re both rotten to the core!”
She was on a roll, slinging mud with wild abandon.
