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Prologue
Penelope, Age 10
“Piggy Penny, Piggy Penny. Oink. Oink. Oink,” my big sister squeals, using her finger to push up the end of my nose, pretending it’s a pig snout.
Tears well in my eyes as I look at my mother for help. As always, there is none to be found as she smirks and shrugs her shoulders. Glancing down at my breakfast, her icy blue eyes narrow, and her mouth tips down in a disdainful frown.
“If you don’t want Lizzy to call you ‘Piggy Penny,' then perhaps you should eat better,” she remarks. My father, hearing her, sets his phone aside; suddenly taking an interest in the conversation.
“Piggy Penny, you know you can’t eat carbs. You’re already so big, and big girls don’t get breakfast bagels. You need to earn that,” Lizzy chirps. She reaches forward to push at my nose again and I swat her hand away. Her blue eyes widen in shock and shebrings her perfectly manicured fingers to her mouth, releasing a mocking gasp.
“Stop it,” I whisper, trying hard to blink back the tears.
“Piggies don’t have claws, silly Penny.” Rising from the table, she tosses her long, smooth white-blond hair over her shoulder and moves toward our father.
“Daddy, she hit me,” Lizzy pouts.
He pushes his chair back, and the room goes silent as it scrapes along the floor. Reaching for Lizzy’s hand, he runs his fingers over it, examining every inch to ensure that I didn’t damage her flawless skin.
His gaze locks on me, creating a fluttering sensation in my chest as he stalks around the table–toward me. Dread fills me, my stomach clenches, and a cold sweat erupts all over my skin. His jaw is locked tight and his pulse pounds near his temple, right by his neatly styled blond hair. His cobalt eyes darken with rage.
Is this it? Will today be the day he hits me?
Stopping by my chair, he grabs my breakfast plate and leans down so we are face to face.
“You will never raise a hand to my daughter again, or you will find yourself living on the street,” he hisses. Spit flies out, landing right on my face, but it is quickly washed away by the tears slipping silently down my cheeks.
“I’m your daughter too,” I whisper to his back as he walks away. Hearing me, he spins on his heel, turning around. His gaze sweeps over me, flicking up and down, disgust twisting his perfect movie star features. Hunching my shoulders, I curl my body inwards.
“So your mother claims,” he replies, revulsion lacing his tone.
“Luisa,” he yells for our housekeeper. “Come, take Piggy’s bagel. You know she isn’t allowed to eat this.”
Luisa appears and whisks my breakfast away, muttering an apology and tossing me a sad smile. I stand and begin heading up to my room.
“Penelope, it seems you need to see the dietician again. I will make another appointment. However, I doubt it will be enough to make you presentable for your father’s movie premiere. Lizzy will give your seat to her friend instead,” my mother calls after me.
Standing in front of the mirror, I stare at the girl looking back at me. Wavy brown hair, brown eyes, and tan skin. I look nothing like the rest of my family. They are all tall, with stunning blue eyes, blond hair, and porcelain complexions.
My sister, the beauty queen. My mother, the model and my father, the actor. They were a perfect family until frumpy little me came along.
Reaching out, I touch the mirror, wishing the reflection would change. My imagination slims my chubby body, changes my hair color, and lightens my skin; creating a daughter who could fit into this family. My deepest desires, if only they could become a reality.
Loud voices in the hallway catch my attention. Moving closer to the door, I feel the rough texture of the wall against my back as I lean against it, straining to hear the conversation from the other side. Sliding down, I reach the floor and fold myself into a tight ball, tucking my knees into my chest. “You know I’ve never cheated on you, Thomas,” my mother screeches. “How many times must we have this discussion?”
“Until you can explain why she looks likethat, Patricia,” he thunders back.
“I’m so sick of this conversation,” she complains.
“At this point, our bigger issue is the press. They are starting to ask questions. I think it would be best to keep her away from public events. Out of sight, out of mind,” Daddy dearest grumbles.
Ah, yes, that’s the most important thing to them as always. Looking good for their adoring fans. Painting the picture of the perfect house, the perfect marriage, and, of course, the perfect… daughter.
“Perhaps we can send Piggy to my mother’s for the summer. That would keep her away from the premiere and the clothing line launch. Lizzie can even model in the show. Really step into the spotlight,” my mother ponders.
The handle on my door slowly twists, and I hurl myself off the floor onto my bed.
The door snicks open and Lizzy steps into my room. A wide smile spreads across her face and her eyes sparkle with glee.
