Chapter 4: No Place for Me

***

I didn’t expect Caleb to resist me, his stepmom, so much. On my very first day at the Parker house, he threw a cup at my feet.

"Get out. All of you, leave. I want Mom."

The cup shattered, splashing juice onto my shoes. The carpet still has a faint orange stain.

Grandpa Parker sighed behind me.

"His mother passed away early, and later we found out this child was different from the others. He was diagnosed with autism three years ago, and since then he’s driven away seven nannies."

His voice was heavy, laced with years of worry and disappointment. He patted my shoulder, but I felt no comfort in it.

Looking at the child curled up in the bay window,

A six-year-old body curled in a fetal position, fingers nervously picking at the window frame.

I sat across the room, careful not to get too close, watching his fingers flick against the glass in a steady rhythm—counting, maybe, or just feeling alive.

I began to learn about autism education methods, using ABA intervention, making daily visual routine cards, making sure Caleb ate and took his medicine on time. But he always hid the pills in his cheeks, and spat them into the potted plant as soon as I turned away.

I’d find little white capsules tucked in the soil for weeks after. At night, I’d google parenting forums and cry over my phone, trying to find someone who understood.

Fortunately, he gradually stopped resisting. He could take his medicine and let me approach.

I celebrated the first time he let me button his shirt. It felt like winning the lottery—until the next day, when he refused to let me near him again.

Now, four years have passed. My thoughts kept replaying in my mind. The pain nearly drowned me.

I wondered if the other moms at Target ever hid in the parking lot, sipping cold coffee and scrolling their phones just to avoid going inside.

Rachel left. Jason’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He pushed open the door and entered my room. In four years of marriage, he had never stepped foot in here before.

He hesitated at the threshold, like he was stepping onto ice.

"You embarrassed yourself, Lillian. After everything we’ve done for you, I expected better."

His voice was cold, as if I were just a servant in the Parker family.

I let out a bitter laugh.

Indeed, isn’t that what I am?

I picked at the edge of my sweater, swallowing the bitter words I wanted to say. Four years, and this is what I get.

"Why did it have to be me?" My voice caught in my throat.

Jason frowned, as if he didn’t understand.

"Why was I chosen in the first place?" I repeated.

I remembered my father’s handshake with Jason’s—two men sealing my fate over a steak dinner.

[Why? Isn’t it because your family doesn’t care about you? Haha, the supporting character is still asking.]

[What normal heiress would want to be a stepmother to an autistic child?]

The comments answered for Jason before he could. I laughed silently.

"It’s nothing, no need to answer." I waved my hand.

Jason was clearly angered by me. He took a deep breath.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose the way he does after a long day at work, then leveled his eyes at me.

"Caleb really likes Rachel. I’ve decided to let Rachel be Caleb’s tutor."

I nodded. Of course, the comments were right about everything.

I felt like I was shrinking, disappearing into the space between my ribs.