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

lost count

of a niggling feeling in my gut, turning to my friends and blowing them off as they protest.Whatever this feeling is, I sense I need to go home. They can deal 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 don’t run.The entire

it? I didn’t even like facing my father when

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 dinner, but I couldn’t see her from my position. Nor could

my heart sinks. I know instinctively

all the blood draining out

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

see it’s change of color, some of it old. How long had she been lying there like that for? God,

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 feel a small

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

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