THE LYING GAME

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO.

A bubbly house. Last-minute preparations and the familiar yearly rush.

A young girl giggled as she hurried past a pair of busy maids and made her way into her bedroom.

Shutting the door securely behind her, she packed up her curly black waves into a ponytail and headed straight for her wardrobe.

It was the sixth of June and every sixth of June marked the wedding anniversary of the Chantel Couple. Her parents.

For this year's anniversary, the six-year-old had prepared the most thoughtful present. She knelt on the floor to pull out a box that she had hidden away from the watchful eyes of her elder brother, Lucas, and the Chantel household maids.

Bang!

An unusual sound from someplace in the house made her hurry. Were they starting the fun already without her? She carried the brightly wrapped up box from the floor and gave a last-minute check to her appearance in the mirror.

For the occasion, she had worn a matching dress with Sofia Chantel, her mother. It was a green flowing dress that greatly complimented her green, jade-like eyes, a proud feature that she had inherited from her father, Davon Chantel.

"Elena!." A sudden knock on her door made her sigh. It was one of the maids. "Hurry out now, Elena!."

"I'm coming, Genevieve!." As the sound of receding footsteps got more distinct, Elena grabbed the gift box and headed for the door to join the rest of her family in the dining hall.

Her fluffy slippers didn't make a single sound as she walked and the caress of the cold evening breeze on her skin made her get goosebumps. It was clear outside with not a single staff in sight.

As Elena approached the family's large dining hall, a familiar body lying unconscious on the floor in the distance made her heart beat faster.

"Genevieve?." Elena set the box aside to kneel beside the maid. It was Genevieve alright but why was she out there passed out on the cold floor? She nudged Genevieve's shoulder to wake her up and almost screamed when the maid's body turned over.

Blood! Is she... dead?.

A voice screamed in the distance and Elena jolted from the floor with trembling hands.

Something was wrong...

"Lucas?. Mommy?. Daddy??!." Elena yelled and forced her legs to move faster.

As she approached the hall, more familiar bodies lay on the ground. Maids and servants, the butler, even her nanny!

Elena covered her mouth to stifle her scream.

Her parents!

She ran into the hall and her eyes widened in horror at the grim sight before her.

A body lay not far from where she stood, the familiar dress on the body, a matching set with hers. The little girl's eyes welled up with tears as she recognized the body of her mother.

"Elena.." A familiar hoarse voice called from a distance.

Davon Chantel dragged his body with the last strength that he had. He was losing blood fast.

His daughter's little legs moved on their own accord and she ran to him. Elena's large green eyes were filled with tears and her voice trembled as she spoke. "Father... Mo..ther..."

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