They Tried To Sell Me. I Sold Their Future

The day I was set to leave the country with a full Ivy League scholarship, customs officers stopped me in front of everyone and declared my passport invalid on the spot.

The officer coldly informed me that not only did I have a million dollars in overdue online loans under my name, but I was also involved in fraud lawsuits, listed as a debtor in default, and banned from leaving the country.

My world collapsed. I rushed home like a madwoman, demanding answers.

My mother, Brenda Hayes, was carefully feeding expensive imported cherries to my ten-year-old twin stepbrothers.

When I confronted them, my stepfather, Richard Stone, leaned back in his chair and sneered, "So what if I used your ID to register a company and take out some loans? What's the point of a girl studying so much? She'll just get married eventually. This money is for your brothers' private school tuition. You should be grateful."

Brenda nodded in agreement. When I threatened to call the police, she locked me in the basement and planned to sell me off to a sixty-year-old man to pay off the debts.

They were clinking glasses and laughing in the living room, unaware that I had an old tablet in my hands, containing solid proof that my stepfather had a mistress and a five-year-old illegitimate son.

"Elara Reed, I'm sorry, you cannot board this flight."

The harsh fluorescent lights of the airport customs office glared in my eyes, making it hard to keep them open.

The officer typed my passport information into the system, then declared it invalid without any expression.

"Why?!" I lunged at the counter, my voice hoarse and unrecognizable. "My visa is legal! I have a full Ivy League scholarship! I have to leave today!"

I had worked myself to the bone for four years for this day.

For four years, I slept only four hours a night, juggling the library and my restaurant job, all to escape that leeching family, that suffocating swamp.

Now, I was one step away.

The officer looked up coldly and slid a printed sheet across the glass.

"Why? See for yourself."

"You have a shell company registered under your name, involved in multiple cases of contract fraud. You also have a total of one million dollars in overdue loans across twelve online lending platforms."

"You are currently a debtor in default. Not only are you restricted from leaving the country, but you're also banned from flying or taking long-distance public transport."

"Ms. Reed, please leave immediately, or we'll have to call security."

One million dollars?

Shell company? Fraud?

I stared at the paper.

Name: Elara Reed.

ID Number: ...

The photo was mine.

But I couldn't even bring myself to buy a twenty-dollar milkshake. How could I start a company? How could I borrow a million dollars?!

"Impossible... this is absolutely impossible! You've made a mistake! Someone stole my identity!"

I pounded on the glass, tears streaming down my face.

Other passengers stopped and whispered.

"Look at her, dressed so shabbily. Turns out she's a fraudster."

"A million in debt and she wants to run abroad?"

"You never truly know a person."

Every word felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

My Ivy League dream.

My new life.

All gone.

I sank onto the cold marble floor, shaking uncontrollably.

Then something from six months ago flashed through my mind.

Brenda had shown up at my college, crying that she'd lost her ID and needed to borrow mine to complete some paperwork. I was busy with finals and gave it to her without thinking.

She returned it the next day.

No one else had touched my ID but her.

I scrambled up, grabbed the crumpled credit report, and ran out of the airport like a madwoman.

Home.

I had to go home and get to the bottom of this.

The rain poured down.

My spending was restricted. I couldn't even get a ride-share, so I braved the downpour and squeezed onto the oldest, most dilapidated bus.

I was soaked to the bone, shivering so hard my teeth chattered.

Memories of my years in that house flooded back.

Ten years ago, my biological father died in a car accident, and my mother, Brenda Hayes, took all the insurance money. She immediately married Richard Stone, a worthless man.

Soon after, she gave birth to twin sons, Liam and Noah.

From then on, I was treated worse than a dog.

The twins ate imported seafood and wore designer clothes, while I wore hand-me-downs and ate their leftovers.

I paid for my tuition and living expenses by collecting recyclables, handing out flyers, and earning scholarships.

I thought that if I worked hard enough, if I flew high enough, I could escape them.

But I never imagined they could be this cruel.

Bang! I kicked open the front door.

Inside was a stark contrast to my drenched, pathetic state outside.

In the warm living room, a huge crystal chandelier cast a soft glow.

Brenda Hayes sat on the leather sofa, carefully peeling expensive imported cherries and feeding them to Liam and Noah.

My stepfather, Richard Stone, lounged in his massage chair, a glass of red wine in his hand, humming along to the TV.

They both turned at the sound of the door crashing open.

"Are you crazy?! If you break the door, can you pay for it?!" Richard's beady eyes widened, and he started swearing.

Brenda frowned, looking at my dripping clothes with disgust. "What the hell is wrong with you? Weren't you supposed to leave for school today? Why are you back? You're getting dirt all over your brothers' rug!"

Liam and Noah threw their toy cars at me, laughing and making faces. "The loser's back! The loser couldn't leave!"

A toy car hit my forehead, raising a large bump.

But I felt no pain.

I strode forward and slammed the rain-soaked, crumpled credit report onto the expensive coffee table.

My chest heaved as I glared at them.

"Brenda Hayes! Richard Stone! Explain to me what this one-million-dollar loan and the shell company involved in fraud are all about?!"

My voice was a raw, ghostly shriek that echoed through the living room.

The air froze for a second.

Richard glanced at the paper on the table. Guilt flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by arrogance.

He calmly took a sip of red wine, then crossed one leg over the other.

"What are you yelling about? Is someone dead?"

Brenda didn't even look at the paper, continuing to wipe her precious son's mouth. "Oh, that? Richard used your ID for it."

Boom

Even though I'd suspected it, hearing her admit it made my brain explode.

"Why?!"

My eyes burned with rage. I lunged forward and swept the fruit bowl off the table, sending cherries flying everywhere.

"How dare you use my ID for loans?! How dare you use my name to register a fraudulent company?! Do you even realize customs stopped me?! My education is ruined! My entire life is ruined!"

Smack! Brenda shot up and slapped me hard across the face.

The slap was full-force, and I tasted blood immediately.

"Elara Reed! How dare you knock over your brothers' fruit bowl?! You're out of control!"

She pointed at my nose, swearing self-righteously. "So what if I used your ID? You eat my food, wear my clothes! I gave birth to you and raised you, so isn't it only right that I use your things?!"

I clutched my burning cheek, staring in disbelief at the woman in front of me.

Was this really my biological mother?

"Eat your food, wear your clothes? I haven't taken a dime from you since junior high! Even when I had a fever of 104 degrees, you wouldn't buy me medicine!"

I screamed, my voice raw. "That's one million dollars! And a fraud record! You're breaking the law! I'm going to call the police and have you arrested!"

At the mention of "calling the police," Richard sprang out of the massage chair.

He rushed over, grabbed my hair, and slammed me to the floor.

"You little bitch, you dare call the police?!"

He kicked me in the stomach, and I curled up in pain.

"Let me tell you! This money is for your two brothers to go to private school! What's the point of a loser like you studying so much? You'll just get married and serve some man anyway!"

"So what if your credit is ruined? Your husband will provide for you! But your brothers are the future of the Stone family. They must go to the best schools!"

Richard's face was twisted in a sneer, spit flying onto my face.

Sweat poured down me from the pain. I turned to Brenda, my eyes holding one last plea.

"Brenda... that's my entire life... you're a woman too, how could you do this to me..."

Brenda looked down at me, her eyes devoid of warmth, filled only with disgust.

"Stop playing the victim. Richard is right. Girls like you, with big dreams but fragile fates. What's the point of going to America? I've already found you a good match."

She coldly delivered my death sentence.

"Mr. Henderson from the East side. He's sixty, and his previous three wives passed away, but he's rich! He's willing to pay a five hundred thousand dollar dowry to marry you."

"You'll pack your bags tomorrow and marry him. That five hundred thousand will cover your brothers' private school tuition, and Mr. Henderson can slowly pay off the rest of your online loans."

I felt like I'd fallen into an ice pit.

Sixty years old. Three deceased wives.

They weren't just ruining my future. They wanted to drain me dry and sell me off to some perverted old man.

"Dream on!"

I found a surge of strength, shoved Richard away, and scrambled toward the front door.

"I'm going to the police station! I'm going to report you for fraud! I'm going to put you in jail!"

"Grab her! Don't let that little bitch escape!" Richard roared.

Brenda, with surprising speed, grabbed the back of my dress and yanked hard.

I fell heavily, hitting my chin on the doorframe, blood gushing out.

Richard rushed up and started punching and kicking me again.

"Liam! Noah! Get the rope!" Brenda shouted at her two sons.

The two ten-year-old devils weren't scared at all. Instead, they clapped their hands excitedly and ran to the balcony to fetch a thick nylon rope.

"Tie her up! Tie up the loser!" they shouted, spitting on me.

With my own mother and stepfather working together, I was tied up tightly, and a foul-smelling rag was shoved into my mouth.

"Throw her in the basement! Starve her for three days, let's see if she's still so defiant!"

Richard dragged me by my hair like a dead dog toward the dark, damp basement.

Slam! The heavy iron door was locked tightly.

I was thrown onto the cold concrete floor, surrounded by endless darkness.

Faintly, I could hear the happy chatter of the four of them upstairs.

"Richard, you always know what to do. Once Mr. Henderson pays the dowry tomorrow, Liam and Noah's private school tuition will be settled!"

"That's right! That little bitch thinks she can cause trouble? I'll mess her up for good!"

"Brenda, I want lobster!"

"Alright, alright, I'll buy it for you tomorrow!"

Listening to those voices, my tears silently streamed down, mixing with the blood from my chin, dripping onto the dirty floor.

Even a tiger doesn't eat its own cubs. But my own mother, to please my stepfather and her two precious sons, was skinning me alive.

Despair drowned me like a surging tide.

Was my life, Elara Reed's life, truly destined to rot away in this dark, sunless basement?

No.

I wouldn't accept it.

I gritted my teeth, struggling frantically in the dark, trying to saw through the ropes on my wrists.

The coarse nylon rope bit into my wrists, making them bleed, but I felt no pain.

A fire of hatred raged in my chest.

I had to get out.

I had to make them pay.