I pushed the door open slowly.
The house was dark, except for the flickering light from the living room television.
Which meant they were still awake.
Laughter came from the living room.
Like the people inside had never worked a day in their lives.
I stepped inside quietly and closed the door behind me, hoping I could slip past them without being noticed.
I slipped off my shoes and started toward the hallway.
"Oh look who finally decided to come home." I stopped.
My stepmother didn't even bother turning her head. Her eyes stayed glued to the television.
On the couch, she and her son were sprawled out like they owned the world.
Kane had his feet on the table, with crumbs all over his shirt.
My stepmother was wrapped in a blanket like some queen on her throne.
"You smell," Kane said suddenly.
I looked at him. "Excuse me?"
He wrinkled his nose dramatically. "You smell like garbage."
I looked down at my clothes.
My arms still smelled of cleaning chemicals no matter how many times I washed them. "I just got off work," I muttered.
"Then shower," he snorted. "He says "work" like he's some big businessman."
My stepmother scoffed. "With what water?"
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
She gestured toward the hallway. "We had to turn the heater off this afternoon. No point wasting hot water on someone who comes home this late."
My stomach dropped.
I rubbed the back of my neck. "Did… Poppy eat already?"
Kane raised his head, and hissed. "Why would I know?"
"I just thought maybe…"
"Does it look like I take care of your stupid cat?"
I nodded slowly. "Right."
Stepmother pointed toward the kitchen. "Go do the dishes."
I closed my eyes for a second. "I'll do them tomorrow morning." I said quietly.
The room went silent.
When I opened my eyes again, she was staring directly at me. "Excuse me?"
"I just finished a twelve-hour shift," I said carefully. "I'm exhausted."
Her eyes hardened immediately. "Are you talking back to me?"
Kane grinned from the couch. "Ohhh this is gonna be good."
I rubbed my face. The headache behind my eyes was getting worse. "No," I said tiredly. "I'm saying I'm tired."
"Well that's unfortunate."
She pointed toward the kitchen again. "Because those dishes aren't going to wash themselves."
I stared at her. "You've both been home all day." The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "What did you say?"
I looked away immediately. "No…Nothing."
"That's what I thought." She leaned back into the couch like she had just won something.
"Now go wash the dishes." Kane grabbed another handful of popcorn."Don't forget the pans," he added cheerfully.
I stood there for a moment.
My whole body hurt, and my chest still felt heavy from everything that happened tonight.
And now this.
I exhaled slowly. Of course this is how my day ends.
I turned and walked into the kitchen.
The sink was overflowing.
Plates. Greasy pans. Empty soda cans. They hadn't washed a single thing all day.
I stared at the mess for a few seconds, turned on the tap, and hissed.
The water was cold. Stepmother turned off the heater.
My hands were already sore. But I started scrubbing anyway.
From the living room, their laughter kept echoing down the hallway.
By the time I finished, my fingers were wrinkled and numb.
I dried my hands slowly and glanced at the microwave clock.
1:42 AM.
I exhaled slowly.
All I wanted was sleep.
I walked down the hallway.
Past the door that used to be my bedroom.
The door was open.
Inside, the room was packed with boxes.
Old furniture. Broken chairs. My stepmother's storage junk.
She had moved everything in there a year ago.
So now my room was the small storage space near the back door.
I pushed the door open. The light flickered weakly.
The room was barely big enough to stand in.
No bed. Just a thin blanket on the floor. And a hook on the wall where I hung my backpack.
I dropped the bag and sat down slowly.
And there she was. Poppy was curled up on the corner of my blanket like a tiny orange cloud, fast asleep. Her tail twitched when the door moved.
My fingers brushed gently through the soft fur on her head. "Hey, Poppy."
She blinked one sleepy eye open. Then closed it again.
The tight feeling in my chest eased a little. "At least someone here doesn't hate me," I murmured.
I lay back slowly beside her on the blanket.
Then my hand moved to my chest again.
I could still picture the pocket watch perfectly in my mind.
The silver case. Pictures of mom and my grandmother. The tiny scratches near the hinge. The soft ticking sound when I held it close to my ear.
My mom's smile when she gave it to me, and told me to keep it safe.
I wiped my eyes quickly with the back of my hand.
It was the only thing I had left of her. My stepmother threw out her other belongings.
And now…. I lost it.
In some billionaire's stupid mansion.
I leaned forward and pressed my elbows to my knees. "Great job, Eli."
Outside the door, I heard my stepbrother laughing loudly at something on the TV.
Then my stepmother's voice. "Turn it up!"
The volume blasted through the thin walls.
I closed my eyes, and almost laughed.
Because earlier tonight I had watched one of the richest families in the city tear each other apart in public.
I lay down on the blanket slowly.
The room was cold. But I was too tired to care. It's not like I had a choice anyways.
My eyes stared at the ceiling.
Poppy shifted closer, curled up against my arm.
I let my fingers rest on her back. "Goodnight, Poppy."
Within minutes, the quiet sound of her purring was the only thing in the room.