Chapter 7

Damien POV

I don’t know what’s come over me lately, but I’m no longer enjoying the cruelty I usually show to my younger

sister Winter. There’s just something about the way that she stares at me, so much pain in her gaze, that I feel a flash

of guilt. If our mother was still alive, then Winter would still be happy and a go lucky child or teenager, but instead

she’s grown up in a house full of abuse. I never used to mind, but lately it has been weighing heavily on my

conscience. My mother would be upset to see the way that father and I treat her. She loved Winter so much. Died

her little girl. I

severely hungover. I’ve lost count of how many

for one night, for heaven’s sake.It’s not like they don’t see me at school every day. Well, at least on the days I bother to go. I rush back to the house but don’t run.The entire time I try to convince

I didn’t even like facing my father when he was on a

quiet, too quiet as I let myself in, my father snoring wildly in the recliner, a beer bottle loosely clutched in his hand. Where was Winter? Dread rises up inside of me. Normally, she would already be in the kitchen cleaning up after

air and my heart sinks. I know instinctively that it’s Winters

can see. I went round the corner and stopped, absolutely horrified, all the blood draining out of my face.

hard ground and she looks like a rag doll, both

old. How long had she been lying there like that for? God, what had father done? This was the first time I’d seen her in such

and falling. She was breathing at least and had a

have you done, old man” I say grimly, bending to

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