Chapter 2: Hunted Like a Stray

Passing by a ranch house, I felt the warmth coming from inside, so I quietly sat down, leaning against it.

I pressed my ear against the rough wood, desperate for any scrap of warmth. The kitchen window glowed golden, the smell of bacon grease and woodsmoke leaking through the cracks. Somewhere inside, a country song played low on the radio, the kind that made you miss things you never had. I heard laughter, low and careless.

Inside, I heard the voices of ranchers talking.

A woman asked coldly, "Mason, when can we get rid of that woman and her kid in the pen? Keeping them is a waste of food."

Her voice was sharp—Helen, the rancher’s wife, always sounded like she was scolding a stray dog. She clanked dishes while she spoke, the noise echoing through the house.

Then a man sighed.

"Helen, not yet. The older one is a senator’s daughter after all, and now the fighting’s broken out again. Maybe she can still be useful."

Mason’s voice was rough and tired. I heard the scrape of his chair against the floor, the sigh of a man who’d made too many bad choices.

"Useful? Didn’t the government say they already found the senator’s daughter? Clearly they’ve given up on the real one..."

Helen’s bitterness was a river that never dried up. She rattled a spoon against a mug.

"The real one is always the real one, Helen. This year’s weather is too bad, the cattle can’t breed, and food is running out in winter. If you’re so worried about rations, maybe we oughta just get rid of the kid."

Mason sounded almost bored, like he was talking about an animal, not a child. My stomach twisted into knots.

"That works."

Their words sent a chill down my spine.

A shiver ran through me. My hands started to shake, and I wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to make myself invisible. I was used to being unwanted, but never before had I felt so close to being erased.

By accident, I knocked over a metal shovel by the house.

"Clang!"

The sound was deafening in the quiet night. My heart leapt into my throat, and I froze, pressing myself against the cold wood, praying they hadn’t heard.

"Who’s outside?"

My heart pounded, and I ran.

I bolted, stumbling through the weeds, my feet barely touching the ground. My breath came out in ragged gasps. I could hear Mason cursing inside, his boots pounding the floorboards.

The two of them quickly lifted the curtain and came out.

"It’s too dark, can’t see a thing..."

"Get my rifle."

A "crack" sounded.

My hair stood on end. I dodged instinctively, but still, the bullet grazed my back.

Pain seared through me, hot and sudden. The world spun, my ears ringing, the taste of blood sharp in my mouth. I stumbled, my legs giving out beneath me. For a split second, I thought I was dead.

Pain surged, my vision went black, and I fell forward.

At that moment, a huge white Great Pyrenees leapt out from the tall grass, grabbed my jacket, and ran off at full speed.

The world lurched. I felt the dog’s teeth clamp around my coat, dragging me across the cold, rough ground. I caught glimpses of moonlight, distant stars, the smear of clouds overhead. The dog’s fur was warm against my cheek.

Bouncing along, I tried hard to look back in my mother’s direction. In a blur, I seemed to see her leaning on the fence, anxiously watching me.

Her blind eyes found me, her body tense. For a split second, I thought she’d call my name. I wanted to shout, to run to her, but the dog kept dragging me away.

A crooked smile tugged at my lips—half hope, half heartbreak.

"Still dreaming that Mom cares for you even as you die, idiot. You’re such a mess, how could she love you? Death is better—at least you won’t disgust her anymore."

A part of me laughed bitterly at myself. Even now, I wanted to believe she cared—wanted to be someone she could love, or at least miss.

"Mom, goodbye forever. I hope you get to go home soon, be with your family, and have peace and happiness year after year..."

I mouthed the words as the dog dragged me through the tall grass, my vision fading. I hoped maybe somewhere, in her dreams, she’d hear me.

After that, darkness swallowed me.