Chapter 2

My name is Seven. I was born on July 7th.

My older sister is Chloe Vance.

We are biological sisters, without a doubt.

Right after I was born, our family business hit a massive financial crisis. My parents convinced themselves that I brought bad luck.

So, they packed me up and shipped me off to my grandparents in the countryside.

Over all those years, they barely visited me once.

It was only after my grandparents passed away that they finally brought me back to the city.

I came home full of hope and longing, but it didn't take long to realize that this family had no place for me.

On the day of the kidnapping, Chloe insisted on walking down an isolated, empty alley. After walking a few steps, she claimed she needed to find a restroom and ordered me to stay put and wait for her.

The next thing I knew, I was knocked unconscious.

I will never forget what followed.

...

"Worthless piece of trash. You're not worth a dime."

The kidnapper's fists slammed into my body over and over, venting his rage.

They had mistaken me for Chloe. They took the wrong girl.

My family refused to pay a single penny for my ransom, which meant the kidnappers were getting nothing.

I was starved for three days and tortured for three days.

I screamed until my vocal cords ruptured, until I couldn't make a sound.

When the police finally breached the hideout, the men were about to tear off my clothes.

Blood blurred my vision, but I still forced my eyes wide open, desperately looking past the officers' shoulders.

No one.

Not a single member of my family had come.

I wanted to cry, but no tears would fall.

The doctor told me I was suffering from severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. It manifested as a complete loss of emotional responsiveness—clinically known as emotional detachment disorder, or emotional numbness.

The hospital room was dead silent. Once the detectives finished their report and left, nobody else ever walked through that door.