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

little girl.

but today I felt like I needed to. The drunken old man had gotten himself fired again, but I guess that’s what happens when you constantly turn up to work either drunk or severely hungover. I’ve lost count of how many jobs he’s

is, I sense I need to go home. They can deal without me for one night, for

even like facing my father

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 dinner, but I couldn’t see her from my

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

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

cold hard ground and she looks like

it old. How long had she been lying there

to me and I bend down and wrinkle my nose at the smell of her blood, relieved to see her chest rising and falling. She was breathing at least and had a pulse even if it seemed a little weaker than normal. I

you done, old man” I say grimly, bending to pick her up, feeling

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