The Daughter They Hated Died A Hero

I thought my dad was working too hard. That was the only reason. I turned off his alarm.

Because of that small, misguided act of kindness, Dad missed a crucial early meeting. Rushing to the office, he was involved in a car accident and died instantly.

My mother never forgave me.

At the funeral, she clawed and hammered at my chest, sobbing that she wished it had been me instead of him.

One New Years Eve, she locked me outside in the bitter snow, wearing only a thin nightgown. I had a raging fever of 104 degrees, and she stood on the other side of the frosted glass, asking coldly if Dad had been this cold before he died.

The day my acceptance letter to Blackwood University arrivedthe most prestigious school in the countrymy older sister, Harper, murmured, If Dad were still here, maybe I wouldnt have choked on my first try at the entrance exams Mom didnt hesitate. She snatched the heavy envelope and tore my future into confetti.

In the middle of the night, I would often wake to the sound of her voice in the hall, begging a silent God to take me, the criminal, and give her Marcus back.

Then, six years later, Dad returned.

He had completed his secret mission.

And when he learned that I was dead, they all went insane with regret.

1

It was the sixth year since Dads supposed death when the phone rang.

His voice was exactly as I remembered it.

Sadie?

My mind went completely blank. For a horrifying second, I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Tears burst from my eyes, and my throat felt clogged with cotton. I couldnt form a single word.

Hearing my ragged sobs, his voice softened, laced with a familiar, deep guilt.

I know I worried you, baby. I was under deep cover, a federal op. I had to fake my death. It was high-risk, a total black-out. I wasnt trying to cut you out.

The mission is over now. Im coming home tomorrow. Sadie, did you miss your dad? Hows your mother? And Harper? Are they home?

Never mind, Ill be there soon enough. Tell them I love them. I have to go, Sadie. See you tomorrow.

I stood there, dazed, the dead phone still pressed to my ear. A tear splashed onto the half-taped Blackwood acceptance letter Id been trying to piece back together. I wiped it away fiercely.

I needed to call Mom. To call Harper. Tell them Dad was alive! He hadn't died in a senseless crash; he had been a hero, fighting the good fight.

I hadn't killed my father. I wasn't the curse.

But as I finally tried to dial them, I realized. They had both blocked me on every platform. Every single one.

It doesnt matter. I know where Mom works.

I ran out the door and soon found her on the corner of the busy avenue, her figure instantly recognizable. She was in her State Trooper uniform, standing ramrod straight beside her cruiser, talking to another officer.

After Dad died, Mom had joined the Highway Patrol. It felt like a perverse, belated attempt to atone for, or perhaps, repair, the crash that took him.

I stared, greedily taking in the slight smile that touched her lips during the conversation. I started to run towards her.

Mom!

For the first time in six years, I could call her name without bracing myself for the cold blade of her disgust.

But before the sound could fully escape, a hand clamped brutally over my mouth, dragging me backwards. I was shoved violently into the back of a black sedan. The door slammed shut, rattling my teeth.

The air in the cabin reeked of stale blood and desperation.

The man whod grabbed me only had one ear. He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back, his eyes dark, surging with pure, venomous hatred.

Do you know why I took you?

He slapped me hard across the face, then grabbed my head again, slamming it against the window in a fit of savage release.

Its because of your goddamn father! That son of a bitch killed all my brothers! Hes a lowlife piece of trash! I want him to suffer! I want his whole family to suffer and die!

Tears streamed down my face from the pain, but I bit back, yelling: No! Youre wrong! My father is a decorated federal agent!

The man let go of me, grabbing the steering wheel, his mouth twisting into a terrifying grin. Agent! Hah! Its because your agent finally called you today that I was able to track you down, you little pest!

He slammed his foot on the gas, aiming the car straight for Moms position, his eyes bloodshot and feral.

To hell with your hero! To hell with your heros family! Youre all going down to pay for my crew!

My vision tunneled. My heart pounded so hard I thought it would shatter my ribs.

Mom. My mom.

I hadnt told her Dad was coming back.

Everything seemed to slow down. I twisted my body, sinking my teeth into the mans remaining ear, and with my hands locked on the steering wheel, I wrenched it with every last ounce of strength I had.

The black sedan veered violently off the intended path and slammed into a utility pole.

The world went dark instantly.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the smoking wreckage of the car and the blood on my own face inside the mangled vehicle.

I looked down at my own body. It was transparent.

Ah.

I had died.

It was such a pity. We were only one day away from being a real family again.

Mom wouldnt make me kneel at Dads grave anymore, begging for his forgiveness.

Harper wouldnt look through me, pretending I wasn't her sister, treating me as a punching bag whenever her classmates made fun of her for having no father.

I missed the warmth of her hand when she used to hold mine back when we were kids, and Mom and Dad were busy. I accepted my death quickly, though I didn't understand why my soul had drifted out.

What the hell is going on here? Is this some kind of lunatic trying to cause mass casualties on a Tuesday?

Thank God the street wasnt packed, or this would have taken out a dozen people.

I was almost hit! Im never walking this way again!

The chattering crowd was quickly moved back, and Mom, along with a few other officers, approached the wreck.

I drifted to Moms side, desperately hoping she would recognize one of the dead victims inside as her daughter.

But she just glanced inside, wrinkled her nose, and moved her eyes away.

Its okay, I told myself. She just hates looking at accident scenes.

A small, silver charm, the Seraph Charm, fell from my transparent neck and rolled to her feet. She bent down and picked it up.

My eyes brightened. Now, Mom. Shell know its me now, right?

We had designed the charm on my eleventh birthday. My zodiac sign was the Sheep, but because of Dads secret work, the charm also housed a tiny GPS tracker, and my name was engraved on the back.

When Mom put it on me, she had smiled. This is your lucky charm, Sadie. Your guardian angel. With this, wherever you are, Daddy and I can always find you.

I watched her, holding my breath. But she simply handed the charm to a detective who had just arrived.

This probably belongs to one of the victims in the car, she said flatly. Make sure you log it in the evidence report.

Mom! You dont even recognize my lucky charm?

How are you ever going to find me now?

Silent, I followed her as she efficiently managed the scene. A familiar officer, a former colleague of Dads who often ate dinner at our house, walked up to her.

He offered a faint, strained smile. Congratulations.

Mom frowned, confused and annoyed. For what?

He paused. I heard him mutter under his breath, You havent heard? Marcus is back. I just heard him on the phone with dispatch; he was calling home. Maybe the details havent been released yet

The noise of the street was too loud; Mom hadnt heard his whisper. She took a step closer. Heard what?

He cleared his throat, changing the subject. Oh, nothing. I just heard about Sadie getting into Blackwood. Thats huge news! Congratulations.

Hearing my name, Moms face instantly darkened. Did that little curse tell you that?

The colleague quickly objected, shaking his head. No, no.

He looked disapprovingly at Mom. Laura, youre still blaming Sadie? That was never her fault, not really

Bound by protocol, he couldn't say more. But that single, small defense of me triggered an intense, emotional meltdown in Mom.

Not her fault? Then whose fault was it? Who asked her to be a self-righteous little savior? Because of her, I didnt even get to see Marcus one last time!

Her voice was a ragged scrape. The accident scene seemed to drag her back to that devastating day six years ago.

Do you know? Six years! I still dream of Marcus, a bloody, broken mess on the road, blaming me for not coming home faster, demanding to know why Sadie turned off his alarm!

Her voice was raw, squeezed from her throat. Her eyes were tragically bloodshot.

Why, why did she have to be my daughter! Why is the person who took him away the one who looks back at me every day!

If I hadn't been her daughter, she could have torn apart the drunk driver who killed Dad in court, demanding he pay with his life. Instead, I had been her daily torment, a constant reminder of her pain.

I reached out, wanting to wipe away the tear that escaped her eye, but my transparent hand passed right through her cheek.

I wiped again, stubbornly.

Mom. I wish I had died that morning too.

But Im glad I didnt. Otherwise, who would have protected you today?

I couldnt let that happen.

Dads colleague sighed, his expression complex. He patted her shoulder and pivoted the conversation.

This wreck is strange. We need to ID both bodies and figure out the cause. Well need to shut down this whole block.

Mom nodded, grabbing caution tape with the other officers.

My soul followed her, pulled uncontrollably. I looked back one last time at my own corpse, feeling an inarticulate sadness and injustice.

If only Mom could have recognized me.

Then she wouldn't have said those terrible things.

The crash meant Mom was finished early, and she came straight home.

The half-taped Blackwood acceptance letter still sat on the dining table. Mom walked past, picked it up, and tossed it into the trash can.

A moment later, the phone rang. It was my high school teacher, Ms. Rodriguez.

Her voice was tight with worry. Hello, Sadies Mom? Can you reach Sadie? Ive called her so many times today, but she wont answer. Is she okay?

Mom answered dismissively. Who knows.

There was a moment of charged silence on the other end. The teacher sounded like she was barely holding back rage. Ive wanted to say this for a long time: What kind of mother are you? Do you have any idea that Sadie paid for every semester with scholarships and part-time jobs? She was starving at school!

Ms. Rodriguez always looked out for me. She was close to Mom's age and had a daughter my age. Once, I passed out from hypoglycemia in class, and she rushed me to the clinic. She called Mom repeatedly, but Mom never offered a single word of concern. After that, Ms. Rodriguez often brought me extra lunch, claiming her daughter had too much.

The teachers voice caught. She was too scared to even get sick. She studied until she broke. I remember every time she came in first place, shed ask me so hopefully, If I get a perfect score, Mom and Harper will be happy, wont they?

But the next day, I would show up with the test taped back together, giving a shaky smile. Mom and Harper were just having a bad day yesterday. Ill try to score even higher next time.

Mom interrupted the teacher impatiently. What does that have to do with me?

Her coldness pierced me like an ice pick.

She deserves it, you understand? She killed her father. She doesnt deserve a good life. If her dad knew we were letting her thrive, how could he forgive us?

It took the teacher a long time to speak. She sounded utterly exhausted. She is a good kid. She got into Blackwood. Please, be kinder to her.

Mom merely said, She wont go. Shes going to spend her life atoning for her father.

The teacher gasped in shock, but Mom hung up the phone.

As soon as she did, Harper, back from whatever shed been doing, walked in the front door.

Moms impatience vanished, replaced by instant, overwhelming tenderness. Youre back? What do you want for dinner? Ill make it right now.

Watching the brilliant, loving smile Mom gave Harper, a creeping, unbearable ache started to eat at my heart.

In Moms eyes, Harper was the last pure connection to Dad, the blood that flowed between them. She was showered with praise, tucked in gently when she had nightmares.

I was also their daughter, but I had forfeited all right to her kindness.

Harper sat on the sofa. I dont have much of an appetite. Just make whatever.

I sat next to Harper. Like I used to when we were small, I reached out and took her hand.

This time, Harper didnt yank it away. She didnt slap me or snarl at me to get lost.

I smiled, feeling a brief satisfaction.

As I smiled, tears started to fall, silent and unseen.

It was just then that I realized I couldnt feel any warmth anymore.

Harper was a year older than me. She had failed to get into her college of choice on her first try and had ended up repeating her senior year with me in the same high school.

One day after school, I cut through an alley and saw her surrounded by a few lowlife townies who always lurked outside the school gates. They were pushing and shoving her.

Harper said something, and a skinny guy with bleach-blond hair backhanded her across the face. His enraged scream echoed down the alley.

You little tramp! You listen to me. If you dont come party with us right now, Ill upload all those private pictures of yours for the whole world to see!

I ran up and stepped in front of Harper, shoving the blond guy away with all my might.

Get away from her!

The thugs werent intimidated. They checked me out, and the blond guy reached out, trying to grope me.

Well, well, look what we have here. A little sister wants to join the fun?

I slapped his hand away and then slapped his face, just as he had done to Harper.

That was like throwing ice water onto a burning flame. Their rage exploded.

Damn it! You asked for this!

I crouched down, curling into a ball as countless fists rained down on me.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Harper hiding in the dark corner, phone in hand, trembling, crying.

Its okay. Hit me. Just hit me.

Harper was my family. I had to protect her.

Dad was gone. If anything happened to Harper, Mom would be destroyed.

I repeated it like a mantra, over and over, trying to block out the pain of the blows landing on my ribs and head.

Shit! Someones coming! The tramp called someone!

After what felt like forever, the punches stopped. The gang scattered.

Mom appeared instantly, running, her eyes scanning the alley with desperate, panicked worry. She rushed past my bruised, curled body on the ground, flying straight to the corner where Harper was huddled. She held her, rocking her and whispering soothing words.

I was so jealous.

Moms embrace must be so warm.

I stood up, stumbling toward her. I just wanted Mom to hug me, too.

My body ached, but I knew if she just held me once, the pain would stop.

I reached out and gently gripped the hem of her jacket. I looked up and met Harpers eyes. They were wide and pleading.

She pointed at me. Mom It was her idea. She brought me here

Everything turned upside down.

Mom whirled around, her eyes blazing with collapsing fury. A torrent of cruel, vile words poured from her mouth, crashing down on me. My ears were ringing, but I only remember the last sentence.

You curse! Killing your father wasnt enough? You wont be happy until you destroy us all!

She took Harper and walked away.

I followed their retreating backs, but the thugs had returned and grabbed my wrist.

Their touch felt sickening.

Mom. Mom.

I screamed her name as loud as I could. She never slowed down. She never looked back.

It was nightfall when I finally limped home.

The door was locked. I sat down outside, my back pressed against the cold wall.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Harper opened the door. Her face was shrouded in shadow; I couldn't see her expression.

Dont tell Mom what happened today. Those private photos were taken by my ex, and I can handle it myself.

She threw a bottle of iodine at me.

Sadie, dont think for a second that what you did today makes us even.

You took Dad away. You let people laugh at me. You owe me.

She didnt let me in. I sat in the darkness of the hallway, applying the antiseptic myself.

Later, I must have fallen asleep because I was dreaming.

I dreamt of that morning six years ago. Dad handed me his phone and told me to turn off his alarm.

I asked him innocently, Why? You said the meeting tomorrow was really important and you couldnt be late.

Dad stroked my hair. The plan changed. I have to do this.

You have to turn the alarm off. I need to be late tomorrow. This is your mission.

If anyone asks, you cant tell them I asked you to. You have to say you did it because you thought your dad worked too hard. Do you understand?

I asked, Cant I tell anyone? Not Mom or Harper?

No one. Its important, Sadie. Otherwise, Mom, Harper, and I will all be in danger.

You can do it, right? Our Sadie is the little hero who protects her family.

I nodded solemnly. I promise, Dad.

I did well, Dad.

Mom and Harper were eating dinner in silence. Neither of them mentioned me.

Dads usual chair had his bowl on it, filled with rice. Mom and Harper followed their ritual, placing his favorite dishes into it, year after year.

It was as if he might pull out the chair and sit down any second.

No one spoke willingly. Since Dad left, it was like the life had been sucked out of the house.

I felt a pang of anger and hurt.

Why? I was gone all day. Why didnt you even ask?

They hadn't even set out silverware for me.

The tears fell, unstoppable.

If you knew I was never coming back, would you finally put out my plate? Would you finally put my favorite food in my bowl?

Moms phone rang. Due to her job, it was never on silent.

She looked at the screen, hesitated, then answered.

I drifted close, hearing the detached voice of a medical worker.

Hello? Is this Sadies mother? Im calling from St. Judes Hospital. Your daughters remains have been placed in the morgue.

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