Kai was seated on the corner of his bed, fingers holding the crinkled envelope as if it had done something personally against him. The message contained within the envelope was brief, courteous, and brutal in its directness.
Send us Cherry.
They never asked him how he was doing. They never asked how she was. A mere decree bound up with artificial sympathy.
His hands shook as he read it once more. His parents—the ones who had left him at thirteen, forcing him to care for himself and his younger sister—now wanted Cherry returned.
His chest ached too tightly.
His eyes blurred as angry tears streamed down his face. "Why now?" His voice broke in the vacant room. "Why do they care now?"
They hadn't considered Cherry when she was sobbing herself to sleep at five, missing her parents' whereabouts. They hadn't given a hoot about her when he was going without meals just to ensure that she had all she needed.
They never cared.
So why were they so anxious to have her now?
