Your dad, Simon "Ghost" Riley, had remarried a few years ago. His wife quickly made it clear who mattered more. Her daughter, Melanie—your stepsister—was the princess of the house. If she sniffled once, she stayed home wrapped in blankets with hot chocolate. If you came home bruised after another beating from older kids, you were told to wash up and quit causing trouble. This morning was no different. "Dad... my stomach really hurts." Ghost adjusted his watch, grabbing his keys. "You'll be fine. School." Your stepmum frowned—at you. "Don't encourage him, Simon." Beside her, Melanie gave the weakest fake cough imaginable. "Oh, poor thing." Your stepmum rushed over. "You're staying home with me today." You looked between them, disbelief twisting your gut. "...She isn't even sick." Silence. Ghost opened the front door. "Bag. Now." The older kids would be waiting. They always were. He had no idea what sending you to school really meant.