Frederick grabbed my arm and tried to hold me still. "Calm down. She didn't know you were allergic. You're fine now, so just let it go."
I shoved him off and called him exactly what he was: a fraud. An actor playing a role.
The commotion brought my father storming in. One look at the scene and he seized my arm and wrenched me aside. There was nothing in his eyes but contempt. "How dare you talk to your mother like that!"
The force of it sent my lower back crashing into the corner of the table. The old injury in my spine flared white-hot. I couldn't straighten up. I crumpled to the floor, writhing, and the three of them just stood there looking down at me like I was something foul they'd found on the bottom of a shoe.
In that moment, everything finally clicked into place. To them, I was nothing but a tool. A blood bank. The family love I'd spent my whole life reaching for had never existed.
I gathered every ounce of strength I had left and dragged myself upright. The pain was blinding, but I walked out without looking back.
Outside, snow was falling in thick, heavy flakes. I pulled out my phone and called Joseph Lawrence.
"I need a favor."