Five years after my brother, Jarvis Fowler, handed me over to human traffickers, I finally fought my way back to freedom.

Lightheaded with hunger, I grabbed a smashed piece of cake from the roadside and shoved it into my mouth.

But before I could even swallow, a heavy kick sent me sprawling.

"Yvonne Fowler! It's Sadie's birthday today. Did you come here just to upset her again?"

When our eyes met, I recognized him—Jarvis, now the richest man in the country. He'd just blown millions on a birthday party for Sadie Fowler, the girl our family raised as an heiress, though she wasn't related to us by blood.

He stared at my filthy face with that same icy disdain he always wore.

"So now you understand how tough the world really is? You brought this on yourself!

"One month left in your five‑year term. When it's over, I'll take you home and give you the best life.

"But you don't touch Sadie again. Ever!"

I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus, but his face stayed a blur. A bitter laugh escaped me.

Maybe Jarvis had always been a blur—someone who only knew how to hurt me.

"I won't," I muttered.

He would never have to worry about me bullying his precious Sadie again. I wasn't going home with him anyway.

With late-stage brain cancer, surviving another month was more than I could hope for.

***

I forced the cake down, too distressed to taste it.

Knowing Jarvis didn't want me anywhere near him, I pushed myself upright, careful of my crippled leg, and tried to slip away.

My vision was so poor from the cancer that I could barely see the ground.

So I bent forward, feeling my way along with both hands.

Laughter burst behind me.

His friends were mocking me.

"Ugh, look at her. Limping around like that so Jarvis will feel sorry and take her home early."

"She really has no shame doing this in public!"

"Exactly. Jarvis is the richest guy around. She's embarrassing him."

Jarvis's face darkened, pride stung. He swallowed his anger and spoke coldly.

"Yvonne, I said there's one month left. I meant it. I'm not taking you back early.

"And don't act like you've had it so tough. I told them to treat you well. You were only supposed to suffer a little. This act makes me sick."

I stared at him, stunned. Treat me well?

Those painful memories came flooding back. I just shook my head with a hollow smile and kept walking.

"Yvie, wait!" A voice stopped me short.

I didn't need to look to know it was Sadie.

She shoved a perfect slice of cake into my hands.

Then she caught my wrist, her nails digging into my skin.

"It's my birthday today. I'm over what happened earlier. I just hope we can get along when you come home."

The sweeter her smile grew, the deeper her nails sank.

Blood welled up.

No matter the pain, I stayed silent. No one cared, and no one would believe me.

I took the cake and wanted only to get away. Maybe if I stayed away, I could survive a little longer.

Back under the bridge, I fumbled through my things until I found the nearly expired painkillers. I swallowed handfuls before my headache eased a little.

Cold wind howled through the underpass, and I pulled my thin clothes tighter around me.

Before long, a charity van arrived at the entrance.

A loudspeaker crackled.

"Temperature's dropping fast. Mr. Fowler's here to show his generosity. Come get your coats and blankets!"

Dozens of homeless people lit up and rushed to line up.

I held my aching head and shuffled to the very end.

When it was finally my turn, the volunteer looked at me, then at a photo on his phone, and waved me off.

"Go away. Mr. Fowler told us not to give you anything."

He paused, his lip curling in a sneer.

"He is a well-known philanthropist. He helps literally anyone. If he singled you out, you must be pretty shitty."

I pressed my lips together. I had expected it, but it was still absurd.

Jarvis, of course, was a prize-winning philanthropist.

He was kind enough to keep Sadie after discovering she wasn't even related by blood, generous enough to give her a life most could never dream of.

And he donated widely and was praised everywhere he went.

Yet he wouldn't spare his own sister a single winter coat that might keep her alive.

The cold kept me awake, so I got up and paced to warm myself.

I had barely stood when I saw a homeless girl being dragged away by a man with his hand clamped over her mouth.

A trafficker—I knew it instantly.

Ignoring the throbbing in my skull, I lunged at him and bit down hard on his wrist.

I hit and kicked the man, but he was far stronger.

He only let the girl go after he kicked me hard enough to crack a rib.

I barely felt it. All that mattered was that she was safe.

Relief burst out of me as laughter, then dissolved into tears I couldn't stop.

No one knew better than I did which fate was worse: being trafficked or being left to beg on the street.

Five years ago, on Sadie's birthday, everything had started with one lie.

"Jarv," she sobbed, "Yvie called me a fake. She said I stole her life, and she's gonna sell me to human traffickers."

That same day, a bodyguard caught a suspicious man in the garden.

He claimed I'd hired him to kidnap Sadie.

I couldn't defend myself as Jarvis wouldn't hear a word from me.

His eyes were red with fury when he slapped me, and then he handed me over to the traffickers himself.

"I thought spoiling you would fix those bad habits," Jarvis snapped. "But you just got more arrogant and crueler.

"I promised our parents I'd raise you right. If kindness doesn't work, then you'll learn the hard way."

On the first day, they broke my leg and sold me into the black market as labor.

The work was brutal; often, I went a day and two nights without food.

They even sold me to a circus once, where I was locked in a cage and treated like an animal for people's amusement. I lived worse than a stray dog.

Once, I managed to sneak a phone call to Jarvis. I begged him through tears to take me home.

He didn't waver.

"I promised Sadie you'd suffer for five full years," he said. "Only then will you stop bullying her."

Sadie again.

It was always her.

Ever since I was brought home, she had blamed me for everything.

And Jarvis always believed her. Little by little, I became the villain in his eyes.

After that phone call, I broke down and cried until I couldn't breathe.

And after that night, I stopped hoping for the family I used to dream about.

Numbness set in, and I let them do whatever they wanted.

One night, someone forgot to lock the crate they kept me in.

I rolled down a hillside and escaped. Terrified of being caught again, I never dared look for work. Begging became my lifeline.

I collected bottles and saved every coin I could, hoping to treat my old injuries at a hospital. Instead, the doctors told me I had late‑stage brain cancer.

The little girl beside me reached up and gently wiped the tears from my face. She draped half of her coat over my shoulders, and we leaned together for warmth.

In the distance, a huge LED screen lit up with breaking news.

"Mr. Fowler buys a 16‑million‑dollar mansion abroad for his sister. The philanthropist's generosity continues to draw public praise, with many saying his kindness only boosts his rising career."

The girl stared at the mansion on the screen, her eyes wide with longing.

"Hey, do you think everyone gets a home someday? I hope we can have one too."

Her question caught me off guard.

Home?

When I was little, the orphanage was home for all of us.

After my birth family claimed me, we lived together, but that home belonged to Sadie.

Now, with my life running out, I found myself wishing for a place that would finally be mine after I died.

So I kept working, collecting bottles, selling scrap, taking whatever hard labor I could find.

Eventually, I saved enough for a deposit on a burial plot.

My body grew weaker by the day. Sometimes I drifted in and out of consciousness for a whole day.

I knew I could die at any moment, but I still hadn't paid off the rest of the plot.

While I was worrying about it, a passerby handed me a flyer.

"Hey, check this out. There's a yacht party tonight; some mysterious CEO's hosting it. They need people to shine shoes.

"Easy job, pays a few dozen bucks, and the rich ones tip like crazy. Sometimes just one tip is this much."

She held up her fingers to show the amount. I took the flyer.

At this point, any job that paid was enough. I had no time to be picky.

I boarded the workers' shuttle and arrived at the yacht.

From the moment I stepped on deck, my knees never left the ground.

Kneeling at the entrance, I polished every pair of shoes that came my way.

As the woman said, some of the wealthy young guests gave tips of a hundred or two without a second thought.

I lost track of time until the crowd suddenly erupted.

"Look! The guy of the night just showed up!"

I kept my head down and reached for the next pair of shoes, but someone kicked the cloth out of my hands.

A familiar voice cut through the noise.

"Yvonne, you'll do anything to get my attention, won't you?

"I'm supposed to take you home in three days, and you can't wait?"

Startled, I looked up. A quick look at him and the place told me this was the party Jarvis had held for Sadie.

He stared at me, anger and humiliation written all over his face.

His fists clenched as if to strike, but he muttered a curse and stepped inside the stateroom.

The party roared on inside, while I sat outside counting the money I'd earned.

When I realized I had enough for my burial plot, I called the cemetery manager.

He took my information, then hesitated.

"Yvonne Fowler? I'm not seeing you in the system. Your record's gone. I can't process this."

"That can't be right," I said quickly. "Maybe there's a mistake. Could you check again, please?"

Hearing the panic in my voice, he made a few calls.

When he came back on the line, his tone was gentler. "They said Mr. Fowler asked for it to be deleted."

The phone slipped from my hand. My eyes burned.

Why couldn't I even die with dignity?

Was Jarvis really doing this to his own sister for Sadie?

My mind went blank. I walked straight into the party.

"Jarvis!"

My voice cut through the music, and the room fell silent.

"Why did you erase my identity?

"Do I not even get to exist?"

Jarvis swirled the wine in his glass, watching me with an unreadable expression.

"You'll do anything to make me feel guilty now. Who knows what you'll pull once you're home? No identity, no trouble.

"But don't worry. I'm your brother. I'll give you whatever you need and keep you safe."

A bitter laugh escaped me.

Safe? I was already drowning under everything he'd done.

Sadie rubbed his back as if calming him, then glanced at the money in my hand.

"Yvie, why do you keep doing crap like this?

"He'd give you anything. If you hadn't hurt him and made a scene, none of this would've happened."

She stepped forward, snatched the bills, and tossed them into the air.

I reached out, but they scattered, falling into the sea and soaking through in seconds.

Sadie looked triumphant, as if she'd done something noble.

"This filthy money doesn't belong here. Let it sink. Maybe it'll take a little of your sin with it."

I stared at the water, hollow and numb.

She could enjoy every luxury Jarvis gave her without guilt, but the money I earned with my own hands was somehow filthy.

Her smug laugh rang in my ears. Something snapped inside me.

I turned around to slap her.

"I worked for that money. What makes you—"

Before my hand could reach her, she threw herself backward and plunged into the sea.

Jarvis's eyes went wide. Without hesitation, he dove in after her with a heavy splash.

He called emergency services while performing CPR on Sadie, his eyes bloodshot.

Finally, she coughed up seawater and blinked awake.

Trembling, she broke into sobs. "Yvie, I only did this to make things easier between you two. W-why did you push me?"

Then she turned to Jarvis. "Jarv, I know she'll never accept me. If it's between dying and leaving, then just let me go."

Jarvis looked like his heart was breaking.

Then he stood and slapped me hard across the face.

"Yvonne, it's been five years, and you're still the same.

"Fine, you want to pull stupid tricks to get my attention. But why can't you leave Sadie alone?"

I put my hands up, stunned and helpless. "No, it wasn't me."

His eyes burned with the same disappointment he'd shown years ago, the day he refused to believe me.

I should've known. Whenever Sadie was involved, he'd never believe me.

The rest of my explanation died in my throat.

Instead, I stared at Jarvis and whispered, "If I die, you'll probably be happy."

I didn't expect him to hear it, but he did.

He snorted. "If you die, I'll pop champagne."

I froze. My vision blurred again as people crowded around Sadie, fussing over her.

It felt like the world went dark, and I was the only one left.

I lowered my head and murmured, "Then you'll get your wish soon enough."

Jarvis didn't hear it. He frowned and turned to ask, but all he saw was me limping away alone.

A strange unease clenched his chest, yet the sound of Sadie calling his name in that soft, syrupy voice snapped him back to her.

To make up for her suffering, the yacht party carried on for another week.

I couldn't leave the yacht, so I curled up in a corner.

Listening to the cheers and laughter on deck, I drifted off to sleep.

A week passed before Jarvis finally made up his mind to bring me home and talk.

Before he could act on it, the cleaning lady called, her voice shaking.

"Mr. Fowler, the girl who polished shoes... she's dead. We don't know when it happened. Her body's already rotting on the yacht."