My Brother’s Girlfriend Slapped Me at Three

My brother Adrian said I was the one person who could make him drop everything.

I believed him—until his girlfriend came to our house.

She waited for Adrian to leave the room. Then she grabbed my chin, accused me of stealing her boyfriend, and slapped me across the face.

I was only three. She still warned me not to tell.

When Adrian returned, she smiled and said I had fallen.

But the red fingerprints on my cheek told a different story.

So did the camera above us.

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My name is Ellie Sterling.

Grandpa chose it because, according to him, the family had waited so long for a girl that I deserved a name everyone could say with a smile.

The Sterlings had money. Enough that Dad rented an entire aquarium for my third birthday because I wanted to watch the dolphins twice. Enough that adults lowered their voices when they said our last name.

I didn't understand any of that.

I understood that my mother sang while she brushed my hair. I understood that Grandpa always had strawberry candy in his coat pocket. Most of all, I understood Adrian.

My brother was twenty-six and already an executive at Sterling Group. People on television called him ruthless. People at work stopped talking when he entered a room.

At home, he knew the names of all my stuffed animals.

He cut my toast into stars. He let me pick the bedtime story even when I chose the same one six nights in a row. After I fell asleep, he tucked the blanket beneath my feet because I kicked it off.

That Saturday, he knelt beside me while I colored on the living room rug.

“A friend is coming over,” he said. “Can you be my best helper?”

I nodded hard enough to shake my pigtails. “I'm always your best helper.”

The woman who arrived was tall and beautiful. Her heels clicked across the marble. Her lipstick was the red I always used for fire trucks.

“Ellie, this is Vanessa Cole,” Adrian said.

“Hi, Miss Vanessa.”

She looked at me for a second too long.

Then Adrian's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and frowned.

“I need to take this in the study. I'll be right back.” He touched the top of my head. “Stay where I can find you, bug.”

“Okay.”

The study door closed.

For a few seconds, Vanessa didn't move. Then her heels crossed the floor one sharp step at a time.

She crouched in front of me.

I held up my drawing. “That's Adrian. That's me. We have a purple dog.”

She knocked the paper aside and pinched my chin between two long nails.

“So you're the one.”

It hurt. I tried to pull away.

“The one what?”

“The little fake who follows my boyfriend everywhere.” Her voice was quiet now. Nothing like the voice she'd used when Adrian was in the room. “Do you think the dresses and pigtails fool everyone?”

I stared at her.

“People online know the truth,” she said. “The Sterlings don't have a little princess. You're some influencer they keep around for attention.”

I didn't know what an influencer was.

“I'm Ellie.”

Her nails dug deeper. “You're in my way.”

“You're hurting me.”

“Stop pretending.”

Her hand struck my left cheek.

The room tipped sideways. I landed on the rug with my ear ringing and heat spreading across my face. For a moment, I couldn't breathe.

Then I opened my mouth to call Adrian.

Vanessa covered it with her palm.

“Don't.”

I kicked and twisted. Her perfume filled my nose. I couldn't get enough air.

“He is mine,” she said. “If you know what's good for you, you'll stop clinging to him and get out of this house.”

I wasn't an outsider. I was Adrian's sister.

But I couldn't say it.

My heel hit the block tower beside me. It crashed across the floor.

Vanessa released me and stood. By the time I dragged in a breath, she had smoothed her skirt and picked up her phone.

“Next time,” she said without looking at me, “it won't be one slap.”

I crawled to the corner of the couch and folded myself as small as I could.

Above us, the tiny green light on the security camera kept blinking.