The words hung in the air. Khloe’s eyes widened. Fresh tears spilled instantly.
“You think I would hurt myself just to frame you?”
“Yes!” I shouted, my composure finally cracking. “Yes, because this is what you do. You lie. You’ve been lying about me for years.”
My dad stepped closer, his face hardening. “Is this true, Julia? You’ve been bullying your sister, making her life miserable?”
“No. No. Please, just listen to me.”
“I’ve heard enough.”
“Dad—”
“Enough.” His fist slammed against the mantel. “I’ve heard enough of your excuses.”
“They’re not excuses,” I said desperately. “Please, just let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain.” My mom’s voice was quiet, disappointed. “I thought we raised you better than this.”
Khloe collapsed into sobs again. Perfect, convincing, fragile.
I looked at her, really looked, and for a brief moment she looked back. No tears. No fear. Just something sharp, calculating.
“You’re lying,” I whispered.
“I’m not,” she said calmly.
“You are. You made all of this up.”
“Julia,” my mom started.
“She’s lying,” I said, turning to my dad. “Please, you have to believe me. I would never hurt her. I would never spread rumors. She’s doing this because she’s jealous. Because Ethan doesn’t like her.”
“That’s enough.” My dad’s voice dropped, cold and final. “I don’t want to hear another word.”
He looked at me like I was something broken. “Something is wrong with you. You’re sick.”
The word hit harder than anything else.
Sick.
“I’m not.”
“You need help,” he continued. “Professional help.”
Then he pointed toward the door. “But right now, I need you out of my sight. Outside.”
The storm roared. Thunder shook the windows.
“Dad, it’s storming.”
“I don’t care.”
My throat tightened. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“That’s not my problem.”
His expression twisted with something I didn’t recognize anymore. “Get out.”
The words came sharp. Merciless.
“I don’t need a sick daughter like you in this house.”
The words cut deep and stayed there. Sick daughter. Like I was something damaged, something defective, something that needed to be removed.
I turned to my mom, searching her face, pleading without saying a word. Say something. Stop this. Tell him this is wrong.
But she didn’t. She just tightened her arm around Khloe and looked away.
That was my answer.
I reached for my jacket by the door. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely get it on, barely managed the zipper. My fingers felt numb already. The door slammed shut behind me.
Through the glass, I caught one last glimpse. Khloe was standing there watching me.
She wasn’t crying anymore.
She was smiling.
The rain hit me instantly, hard and relentless, like stepping into a wall. Within seconds, I was completely soaked through. Cold seeped into my skin, into my bones. I stood there on the porch for a moment, waiting. Maybe my dad would come out. Maybe he’d realize he’d gone too far. Maybe he’d open the door and call me back.
The door stayed closed.
So I walked.
I didn’t have a destination. Just away. Away from that house. Away from Khloe’s lies. Away from parents who believed I was broken.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Low battery. Eight percent. I pulled it out, hands trembling, and tried calling Megan. No answer. Then Ashley. Straight to voicemail. It was Friday night. Everyone was home. Warm, safe, dry. Everyone except me.
The wind lashed at my face, whipping my hair into my eyes. The rain came down in heavy sheets, blurring everything. I could barely see a few feet ahead. Cars passed by, tires slicing through puddles, water spraying outward. No one slowed down. No one stopped.
I headed toward the library. Maybe I could wait there. Just sit somewhere dry until the storm passed. But when I got there, the windows were dark, the doors locked, closed.
The bus station was two miles away. If I could make it there, I could at least sit inside, warm up, think.
So I kept walking.
Each step felt heavier than the last. My shoes were completely soaked, water squelching with every movement. My jacket clung to me like a second skin. I was shaking now, teeth chattering uncontrollably. Thunder cracked overhead. Lightning tore across the sky.
For a moment, I thought about turning back, going home, knocking on the door, begging.
But then I saw his face again. That look. That disgust.
Sick daughter.
Maybe he was right. Maybe there was something wrong with me. Why else would they choose Khloe every single time?
The bus station was still a mile away. The storm grew worse, the wind stronger, the rain heavier.
I didn’t see the headlights until it was almost too late.
I was crossing an intersection. The light was green. I’m sure it was green. But the rain was blinding, the wind roaring, everything distorted.
And then a car out of nowhere.
Headlights blazed straight at me. A horn screamed. Brakes shrieked. I tried to move. I wasn’t fast enough.
The impact hit me from the side, throwing me into the air. My body slammed against the hood, then the pavement. My head struck the asphalt hard. Pain exploded, sharp and blinding, consuming everything. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Rain poured into my mouth, into my eyes. The world tilted sideways, warped, wrong.
I heard a car door slam. Footsteps rushing toward me, splashing through water.
“Oh my God. Oh my God.”
