Chapter 3

I stood outside Zane's door and knocked. Inside, I heard him scrambling to hide something. Papers rustled frantically.

"What do you want? Can't find something again?"

His tone made me flinch. I forced myself to smile. The kind of playful smile I used to wear when things were still good between us.

"Zane, Mom contacted me. She says she's doing well now. She feels guilty about everything. She wants me to come live with her. I said yes."

Silence stretched between us. Then his voice came out sharp and disbelieving.

"Do you even know what you're saying?"

I repeated the words carefully. "I want to live with Mom."

Something inside him snapped. His chair scraped violently against the floor.

"Anna! Have you forgotten what she did to you? You haven't suffered enough?"

How could I forget? The years the court gave me to Mom, she dated constantly. Sometimes she'd disappear for days. She'd forget to leave money for food.

Little Zane would collect bottles in the freezing winter. He'd trade them for bread and give it all to me. His stomach would growl with hunger, but he'd smile and say, "I think I ate too much."

I'd begged Mom to adopt Zane because I wanted him to survive. Instead, he'd spent his entire life dragging around a blind girl. He'd never had one good day because of me.

When Zane refused to even consider it, I called Victoria.

"Please," I said. "Talk to him. He'll listen to you."

Victoria was quiet for a long moment. Then she agreed.

Two days later, she called Zane. I heard his phone ring. Heard him answer.

Her voice drifted through the speaker. "Zane, I'm leaving with my teacher in a few days. Once I'm gone, you'll never have another chance."

Zane stared at me. I didn't know why, but even though I couldn't see, I could feel his gaze on me. Then something broke inside him. He stormed into his study, grabbed something, and ran out the door.

The apartment door slammed shut.

I smiled in the silence. Relief flooded through me warm and light.

A full day passed. Zane didn't come home.

Victoria called me the next afternoon. Her voice bubbled with excitement. "Thank you for this. Zane really is meant to paint. I'm arranging a gallery show for him."

Happiness surged through my chest. He was free. Finally free.

But by evening, my stomach had begun to cramp. I hadn't eaten anything all day. Zane always prepared meals before he left. This time he'd been too angry to think of it.

I used voice commands to order delivery. When it arrived, I felt my way to the door. The handle wouldn't turn.

He'd locked it from the outside.

Night fell. My stomach burned with acid. Hunger made my hands shake.

I navigated toward the kitchen by memory. My fingers traced the familiar countertop. I needed to find something. Anything to eat.

My arm swept across the counter. Something crashed to the floor. Glass shattered. Then I smelled gas.

Panic seized my chest. I'd knocked over the stove lighter. Flames roared to life somewhere to my left.

I grabbed for the faucet. Water sprayed everywhere. Not on the fire. The flames spread across the counter.

Smoke filled my lungs. I dropped to my knees, coughing. Heat blistered my skin. My hands went numb. Pain disappeared into a strange, terrifying absence of feeling.

Tears streamed down my face. I crawled toward where I thought the door should be.

"Anna, you useless waste," I sobbed to myself. "Don't die here. Don't you dare die here."

If Zane came home and found my charred body, he'd never forgive himself. The guilt would destroy him. I couldn't do that to him.

My guide dog bit my pant leg. Its bark cut through the roar of flames. "Stupid girl! This way! Hide this way!"

I crawled in the direction of its voice. My lungs screamed for air. Black spots burst behind my useless eyes. The world tilted sideways.

Then nothing.

***

Beeping pulled me back to consciousness. Antiseptic smell. Crisp sheets. Hospital.

Footsteps rushed toward my bed. Zane's voice came out exhausted and bewildered.

"I was only gone one day. Why do you always do this to yourself?"

My hands twisted in the sheets. "I'm sorry."

More footsteps entered the room. A doctor's voice rose sharply, scolding Zane.

"What kind of guardian are you? You left a blind person alone in a locked apartment. Do you understand she almost burned to death?"

I opened my mouth to defend him. To explain it wasn't his fault.

But Zane spoke first. His voice was cold and hollow.

"Every time I try to leave, you use reality to remind me. To show me I can only stay by your side."

Victoria's shriek pierced the room. "Anna! You did this on purpose! You're using this to keep Zane trapped!"

Pain lanced through my chest. Sharper than any burn.

I laughed. The sound came out bitter and broken.

"So what if I did? My eyes aren't healed. He has to stay with me for the rest of his life. He owes me that much."

The words tasted like poison. But I forced them out anyway.

If he hated me enough, maybe he'd finally walk away for good.