Mom shrugged it off. "Zach's already a lost cause from living out in the country. Bringing him here sooner wouldn't have changed anything, and it probably just would've meant more trouble for Will. At this point, all we can do is hope that whatever center he's at manages to fix him."

Dad cleared his throat impatiently. "Why even bring him up? Do you want Will picking up his bad habits? Let's just eat."

I'd heard all I needed to. Feeling numb, I drifted into the storage room. Since William didn't want me around, this room—the one farthest from his—had basically become mine.

I looked around, but none of my stuff was left. That was when I remembered that Mom had already turned it into William's walk-in closet.

"Your dad and I have always done our best for you," Mom had hissed, her voice dripping with disgust. "And Will is your younger brother. He's fragile, and instead of protecting him like you're supposed to, you got him beaten up?

"I know you're unhappy living here, but Will is still getting used to having you around. Was it really too much to ask you to go easy on him? I can't believe you let this happen to him. If anything worse happens to Will, you're going to pay for it!"

Then, without another word, she ordered the maids to clear out the storage room and turn it into a walk-in closet.

No one would listen to my side of the story, let alone believe me. I didn't even know any thugs to begin with.

My eyes wandered over the walls, lined with William's designer clothes and shoes, and it hit me—there hadn't been a place for me in this family for a long time.

The world was wide open, but I didn't have anywhere in mind to go. Before I knew it, I was in the kitchen. The space was large, and there was Felix Seymour, huddled in the corner, eating off a plate.

He was a kid I'd taken in after his family abandoned him. They'd left him in the mountains because of his intellectual disability. I'd found him by chance while gathering herbs and brought him home.

I named him Felix, hoping that someone like me might find happiness in life.

Those long days waiting for Mom and Dad to pick me up, Felix was the only one who stuck by me. We huddled together for warmth, and having him around made the endless loneliness a little easier to bear.

He knew about Christmas. Even in the bitter cold, he'd stubbornly crouch by the riverbank, trying to catch fish, just because I'd once told him that eating fish at Christmas meant we'd swim through the new year with plenty to spare.

I brought Felix along when Mom and Dad finally moved me to the city. But William thought he was dim-witted and never let him sit at the table.

Felix would eat leftovers from a dish in the kitchen and sleep there, or sometimes out in the gazebo. He wasn't the sharpest, but he had a good heart. Even when he was hungry, he never took food that wasn't his.

Still, William never showed him a single kindness. And because of William, nobody else did either.

Whenever Felix finished eating, I made sure to stop by and spend some time with him. He might not have understood everything I said, but he always got how I was feeling.

His big eyes would brighten, and he'd reach out to give me an awkward little pat on the back with his small hand.

Now, I crouched beside him as he stared intently at the doorway, waiting for me to come through like I always did. Only this time, I wouldn't be coming.

It had been so long since Felix last saw me. He must have been wondering where I'd disappeared to. Huddled in the kitchen corner, he started making these quiet whimpering sounds.

At first, he tried to keep it in. But soon enough, he couldn't hold back anymore. His wailing grew louder and louder until even the Seymours could hear it from outside.

Felix heard the commotion outside the kitchen and wobbled over to the door. The second he spotted Anne, his speech slurred, the name barely making it past his lips. "Z-Zach..."

Dad scowled and snapped at Felix to shut up.

"I'll lock him in the room outside later," Anne said.

As soon as Dad left, she marched over, seized Felix by his clothes, and was ready to drag him off.

William flashed her a bright smile. "Anne, we just got home. You must be tired. Let me handle this. Go wash up and get some rest."

Eventually, Anne left.

The second she was gone, William pulled on a pair of gloves, his face twisting in disgust as he yanked Felix into the small room outside. With a heavy thud, he threw Felix onto the floor.

Felix clutched his head, grimacing in pain, but his eyes were still clouded with confusion as he stared up at William.

"Zach…"

"I'm not that beggar."

William seized Felix's matted, unkempt hair. The searing pain sent Felix thrashing wildly, though he was careful not to so much as brush against William.

William gave him a disdainful look and slapped him across the face. Felix cried out, but before he could make another sound, William shoved a rag into his mouth, muffling his cries.

Then he grabbed Felix and threw him to the floor like he was nothing. Felix, terrified, scrambled back into the corner.

William crouched before him, his face twisted in a vicious smirk as he slapped him again and again.

"You're the little beggar, and Zach's the big one. What a pair." William gave a harsh laugh.

"Zach's nothing but trash. Who does he think he is, calling himself my brother? Because of him, the whole class makes fun of me. That useless waste should've stayed rotting in the countryside. He's disgusting."

Felix's cheeks burned red, swelling from the blows, while the rag stuffed in his mouth slowly darkened with blood.

William stared at Felix, now limp and barely conscious in the corner, and grinned. Before leaving, he drove his foot into Felix's spine with one last, savage kick.

My hand shook as I reached out, trying to brush Felix's hair, but my fingers closed on nothing but air.

…

William sent Felix away.

It all started when Felix crawled under Anne's skirt and scared her. But the truth was, William had snatched the doll I'd given Felix and spitefully thrown it at Anne's feet.

I'd sewn that doll by hand for Felix back in the countryside, and he treasured it. But William treated it like a cruel joke, tossing it right at Anne's feet like it was worthless.

Felix had an intellectual disability, so he didn't fully understand what was happening. He just dashed over and ducked under Anne's skirt to grab it back. The sudden movement made her shriek.

William immediately grabbed Felix by the scruff of his neck and threw him aside. I tried to catch Felix, lunging forward to cushion his fall, but he passed through me and hit the floor hard.

He was still sore from the beating William had given him a few days earlier, and the impact made him wince in pain.

Anne huffed in frustration and pulled out her phone to call me, but it went straight to voicemail.

William let out a low chuckle, his words slow but laced with something close to pity. "Hard to say if Felix learned this from Zach. This kid's barely grown and already lifting girls' skirts. And everyone says he's slow. If even he can pull that off, imagine what Zach gets up to normally."

Anne recoiled, her face twisting in disgust as she backed away from Felix. He stood there in a daze, completely unaware of what they were saying.

Anne scowled. "Trust Zach to mess things up. Who in their right mind would pick up some random idiot and bring them home?"

William's eyes gleamed sharply as he said, "We should just get rid of Felix. With the way he acts, who knows? Next thing you know, he'll be sneaking into your room."

Anne hesitated.

"Plenty of couples can't have kids. He'll be taken care of. It's better than staying here and picking up Zach's bad habits."

Eventually, Anne gave in.

As soon as she was gone, William drove his foot into Felix, knocking him to the ground. His eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. "Relax, you little idiot. I'll set you up somewhere nice. A beggar should stick with their own kind."

And just like that, William severed the last connection I had to the Seymours.

…

I'd been dead for ten days, and the Seymours still couldn't be bothered to look for me. Everyone just figured I'd run off to avoid getting punished.

Mom's hatred for me only grew worse, and she spat, "Good riddance to that worthless son of mine! A disgrace like him is nothing but shame!"

Then her phone buzzed with a video from the Dean of Students.

There I was on all fours, crawling forward in the most humiliating way imaginable. The camera trailed me for a few steps before I turned toward the lens with this fawning grin. Then I stuck my tongue out, barking like a dog.

My family didn't notice how my clothes hung off me. Even the smallest size swallowed my bony frame whole.

My family didn't notice the taser appearing over and over in the video. All they saw was me, the Seymours' eldest son, nuzzling against a stranger's leg like a dog.

Dad's face twisted with anger. In a low, furious voice, he snapped at Mom to turn off the video, calling it humiliating. "Turn it off!"

Once she did, she tapped open a voice memo from the dean of students.

That was the same voice that had tormented me endlessly at the residential treatment center. It always came right before punishments that left me shaking.

They'd lash me with a whip coated in pepper spray or shock me with the taser until my body spasmed uncontrollably.

The whole time, they'd howl with laughter, mocking me, a privileged family's son, for having less pride than their pet dogs.

"Mrs. Seymour, Zach's behavior is beyond disappointing. The fact that he's gone this far just to avoid punishment is despicable! I suggest we extend his 'study' period until he learns some obedience and manners."

Dad slammed the fruit platter onto the floor, his anger finally exploding. "He makes me sick! What did I do to deserve such a shameless son?"

After hearing the voice memo play from Mom's phone, my mind dragged me back to those dark days.

…

Every one of them controlled my fate. I was nothing but a dog on a leash—something to toy with or beat up whenever they felt like it. All because the Seymours never gave a damn about me.

It kept going until that day when I finally fought back. But in the end, they broke my arms and legs, crushed my spine, and sent me slamming into the wall with one last kick.

The last thing I saw was red flooding my vision. Maybe my skull had split open. The thought flickered weakly as my mind faded.

They bolted when they realized they'd gone too far.

Shaking, I managed to grab my phone and call Anne.

"I'll come get you right away," she said.

Her voice sounded empty, but I trusted her. I clung to that hope, waiting for her to rescue me. In the end, I bled out.

She lied to me—just like Mom and Dad had done on that snowy day years before.

…

After watching that humiliating video that shamed the whole family, Mom frantically called my phone, but no one answered.

Dad was so furious he almost smashed his phone. Then he snapped at Anne and Mom, telling them not to let me in when I got back.

"Starting today, he's no son of mine!" he roared. "If he's going to spit on our kindness, we'll send him back to the countryside! Let him rot there for all I care!"

Mom interrupted sharply, "Have someone throw out all his things later. I can't bear to look at them anymore."

I stood right before her, staring at them with nothing but pain in my eyes.

How could they possibly think sending me to that residential treatment center was for my own good? Had they even noticed the scars covering my body? Or how thin I'd become?

Was William really the only one who mattered to them?

Dad's phone rang abruptly. The second he saw the police calling, his expression shifted through a dozen emotions at once.

Annoyed, Mom grumbled, "It's got to be Zach causing problems again! Now he's dragging us into it. He never could act right like Will."

Dad let out a dismissive grunt before answering the call.

"Hello, are you Zach Seymour's family? This is the—"

Dad cut the caller off impatiently. "You've got the wrong person! I'm not his family, and I won't claim a son who's done nothing but embarrass us! If he landed himself in jail, he can sit there and think about what he's done.

"Don't call here again. He's not my son. And you make sure he understands that once he's out, he'd better stay clear of the Seymour residence.

"He can crawl back to whatever countryside he came from and waste his life for all I care. And tell him not to come begging for help. The Seymours have already given him more than he ever deserved!"

Dad was about to end the call when the voice on the other end spoke up urgently.

"This is the police. We recovered a young man's body from the mountains several days ago. We've confirmed his identity. It's Zach Seymour."