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Carol scoffs. “What aboutyourcollege tuition? You should be in an omega academy and training for your future. It’s not your responsibility to take care of your stepmother and stepsister.”
“I wish Laura could understand what the bakery means to me,” I say, opening up to Carol. She’s several years older than me but we’ve been friends since I was as young as sweet Aggie. She was my babysitter and has been a constant support since my mom died when I was eleven.
“Your stepmother doesn’t give a shit about you,” she says, looking angry. “Laura took advantage of David’s grief and lured him into marrying her by promising to be a good mom to you. He believed her because she had a daughter of her own. It’s horrible how he left you with them.”
Her words remind me of the sudden heart attack that took him away from me. Tears sting my eyes and I struggle to hide my emotions from Carol.
“Laura and Ashley are still my family,” I say, swallowing a choke. “That’s the reason I’m desperate for this to work out. When Laura sees that the bakery can turn up a good profit, she’ll start supporting me.”
Concern swirls in her eyes. “You should protect yourself,” she says. “Don’t trust Laura too much. Whatever profit you make, save it up for yourself.” Moving forward, she wraps her arms around me.
The subtle scent of sweet peaches wafts into my nostrils as I hug her back.
“I wish you could have an alpha to protect you,” she says with a soft smile as she caresses my hair the way she used to when I was a child. “Your parents would’ve done anything to send you to a reputed omega academy to train you into becoming a perfect match for one of those amazing packs that adore their omega. You deserve that, you know?”
A chuckle escapes me. “I’d rather be a beta like you and work my ass off to build my own future. I don’t want to depend on anybody but myself.”
Her grin broadens. “Looks like I was able to teach you something after all.” She lets out a sigh and glances back toward the house. “I wish my kids would learn the value of hard work too.”
Grasping her hands, I squeeze them. “Of course, they will. You’re their mom, you know. They watch you and learn from you every day. I honestly have no worries about them.”
A blast of wind blows at us, making her curse out.
“Ugh! You need to get your ass home before the storm hits,” Carol says, stepping behind the threshold.
“Yeah,” I say, moving away a stray strand from my eyes. “Catch you later!” Waving at her, I walk back toward the street.
A thin layer of snow is forming over the houses and the bare tree branches. Pulling the hood of my jacket tighter around my head, I quicken my pace to reach home.
A smile hovers over my lips. Even if the weather is bad, I’m looking forward to doing my favorite thing in the world. Which is to make some hot chocolate, sit near the window in my room, and read a book.
I’d like to sit by the Christmas tree in the living room but the space is usually occupied by Laura and her boyfriend, Pete. They make me feel like an outsider even though I’ve been living in the same house since I was born.
Ashley, my stepsister, rarely hangs around at home. She prefers to party with her friends every night and spends most nights at one of their houses.
All through high school, Ashley pretended not to know me at all. She usually warmed up to me at home to help her with homework but beyond that, we never developed a deeper relationship.
Deep within, I know Laura and Ashley don’t care about me but I’m desperate to hang onto the semblance of a family.
The other reason is that the moment I leave, Laura would happily sell On The Rise, the bakery that my parents ran. Other than the money she’d receive for the prime spot it stands on, it holds no value to her.
Our home comes into my view the moment I go around a bend in the road. It’s one of the very few houses that has barely any lights or decorations on it.
Pete, Laura’s partner, is lazy and refuses to do any work in and around the house. Laura doesn’t care much for Christmas decorations either. With working full-time at the bakery, I haven’t had a chance to put up the lights yet this year.
Suppressing my disappointment, I walk ahead.
Reaching the house, I unlock the front door and head inside.
The darkened corridor leading to the living room is warm and dry. I relish in the quiet space for a moment before walking further inside.
Familiar voices drift from upstairs as I enter the living room. Recognizing it to be Laura and Pete’s voices, I ignore them and move toward the kitchen.
Opening the fridge, I look around for something to eat.
As usual, there’s barely any cooked food. So, I grab the half-eaten loaf of bread and move toward the counter to make myself a peanut butter sandwich.
Low rumbles of thunder sound in the distance as I pour milk into a saucepan. A shudder goes through me as I think of the approaching storm. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be bad enough to mess up the wonderful decorations that the neighbors have put up this year.
