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.

when you constantly turn up to work either drunk or severely hungover. I’ve lost count of how

without me 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

like facing my father when

up inside of me. Normally, she would already be in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner, but I couldn’t see

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

any wounds that I can see. I went round the corner and stopped, absolutely horrified, all the blood draining out of

is lying there on the cold hard ground and she looks like a rag doll, both of her eyes

head and I can see it’s change of color, some of it 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

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

grimly, bending to pick her up, feeling her head draped against me

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