Chapter 2: Bought and Sold

The sugar still stuck to my fingers as she dragged me outside.

The neighbors pretended not to look, but I could see them peering through their curtains. I felt small and exposed. My cheeks burned.

"You little curse, can’t even take care of your brother, and you have the nerve to cry. Let me tell you, if you cry again, I’ll give you away and use the money to buy milk for my son, so he can grow up tall."

Her words cut deeper than any slap. I bit my lip, but the tears came anyway.

After saying that, she took Danny away. Left me with the laundry.

I scrubbed and scrubbed. My knuckles raw. The world narrowed to the rhythm of my hands in the soapy water.

The sky turned a bruised purple. I watched the shadows stretch across the yard and realized something I’d never dared admit before.

Danny wouldn’t give me a better life. If anything, things were just beginning.

Hope is a fragile thing. That evening, I let mine slip away.

Sure enough, things went just as I’d feared.

It was like the world had shifted. I stopped waiting for miracles.

After school started that fall, my mom suddenly discussed with my dad and decided not to let me go to school anymore. She told my dad to go out and earn money, while she stayed home to work the garden. With no one to look after Danny, I’d have to drop out and stay home to take care of my brother.

I listened from the hallway, heart pounding. They talked about me like I was a piece of furniture.

She acted like she owned me.

The sight of the principal’s battered old Ford in our driveway sent a jolt through me.

The councilman’s voice boomed through the house. My mother glared at him.

She was stubborn as a mule. Her voice rising with every word.

The principal shifted, glancing my way with sympathy.

He leaned in, voice low and serious.

He didn’t raise his voice. But his words hit like a hammer.

My mother’s face went pale for the first time.

My mom tossed and turned all night. But the next day, she let me go to school.

By morning, she’d made up her mind. Though you’d never catch her admitting it.

Her finger left a dent in my forehead. But I didn’t care.

I wanted to go to school. I wanted to change my fate.

Every step down the gravel road felt lighter. I held my backpack tight.

Kids from all the nearby towns went there.

I never forgot that kindness.

He looked at me over his glasses. His eyes kind but tired.

His hand was warm and steady. The first gentle touch I’d felt in a long time.

From then on, I started studying desperately.

On the blackboard, year-round, someone had written: Knowledge changes your life.

I copied that phrase into my notebook. Underlined it twice.

She was always finding new ways to keep me in my place.

The house was drafty and cold. Every penny counted.

She glared at me, hands on her hips.

She cut off my electricity. Not realizing it was the new TV using power.

The silence was thick. I wrapped myself in a blanket.

Danny’s eyes sparkled as he apologized.

He tiptoed away. His little feet barely making a sound.

He was different—gentler. Sometimes I wondered if kindness could be inherited.

I studied hard, determined to change my fate.

Until something happened when Danny was seven that gave me a new idea.

His cheeks were streaked with mud. His shirt torn at the elbow.

My mom, furious, grabbed a garden hoe and rushed out.

The shouting matched the dogs barking in the yard. I held Danny’s hand tight, afraid my mother’s temper would get us all thrown out of town.

The words hung in the air. Heavy and mean.

Nonsense! Danny is a Hayes. How can your Tommy bully him?

Secrets spilled out into the open. Old wounds torn fresh.

That simple-minded woman was bought too? How tragic.

I caught Aunt May’s eye for a second. Her gaze empty, lost.

A few minutes later, the councilman came to end the chaos.

By the next morning, everyone knew.

He shuffled into my room, shoulders slumped.

I hesitated, wanting to shield him. But the truth was the only gift I could give.

His small frame seemed to shrink even more.

It was a promise I made in the dark. One I held onto through every hard day that followed.

He became quieter, withdrawn.

I did what I could. Teaching him how to survive.

The days blurred together—school, chores, the slow grind of hope and disappointment.

Trouble has a way of finding you when you least expect it.

The streets were empty. The streetlights flickering like dying fireflies.