Page 52 of My Ruthless Neighbor

“I will work an extra hour.”

“Make that two.” She sniffs, crossing her arms across her blazer-covered chest.

My jaw hardens. “I am only half an hour late, Hallie.”

“You should’ve reported to me if you were running late. You will work extra hours. It’ll help you remember not to repeat your mistake.”

I’ve got fired countless times because I couldn’t take shit from stuck-up assholes in the past. The old me would have given her a befitting rebuttal. But the present me knows better.

I have learned that if you want to earn money, you have to keep your mouth shut sometimes. You have to swallow your anger because you need to survive. To pay bills, you need money. And to earn money, you have to deal with shitty people.

So instead of giving her a cutting response, I reach inside my royal blue pants pocket and pull out my phone.

A few clicks later, I hold my phone to her eye level. “Maybe this will jog your memory.”

She glances at the thread of messages between us for all but two seconds before clearing her throat. “All right. Go and get changed.”

When she leaves, I stick my tongue out at her back. Then I head to the back door that leads to the changing room.

Once I am changed into the waitressing uniform, I watch myself in the mirror. My pink top and royal blue pants are replaced by the white short-sleeved shirt and black mini-skirt that ends on the top of my thighs. Sheer black pantyhose covers my long legs and black high heels cover my feet.

My long hair is tightly pulled back into a ponytail. The lack of colors makes me avert my gaze. I don’t like to stare into reality. And that’s what happens

when I see myself without the colors.

I close my eyes.

Mommy’s fingers tremble as she pulls the bright yellow dress with colorful patterns over my head. Next, she helps me with my arms that get tangled in the dress.

A loud crash coming from the living room makes me jump. I bite my trembling lower lip. My eyes are wide, my body shaking.

Mommy stares at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Her smooth skin is deathly pale except for the blue bruises on her face.

She unwraps a lollipop and holds it up. I take it and pop it into my mouth. The taste of strawberry explodes in my mouth but instead of calming me like it usually does, I feel more restless.

I reach up and touch her face. “Mommy…”

She shakes her head, silently asking me to stop talking.

Once she has dressed me, she reaches for my long hair and starts braiding it. She secures it with my favorite rainbow-colored hair tie. But right now, I want to shred it with scissors.

I hate colors. Whenever she dresses me in them and asks me to hide in my bedroom, something bad happens to her. Her beautiful face gets more black and blue and swollen.

I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

It hurts watching mommy in pain all the time. I want to protect her. I want to hide her from the evil like she hides me.

I feel helpless. And scared. So, so scared. Because sometimes, I dream of her never returning to me. Sometimes, I have bad dreams about never seeing her again. Hear her voice again.

Last night, I dreamt that I was lost. There were so many faceless people around me but none of them were mom. It terrified me so much that I wet the bed.

By the time I am dressed, tears are streaming down my face.

Cupping my face, she smiles. “You know what to do now, don’t you, darling?”

I nod, hiccupping. “I will lock the door of my bedroom and will stay inside the covers until you come back.”

“And…”

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