Chapter 1: The Diploma in Pieces
The first thing my stepmother destroyed at my graduation party wasn't my diploma.
It was the last bit of hope I had that she might ever love me like her own daughter.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"" I screamed as Monica Williams ripped my diploma straight down the middle, then tore it again, scattering pieces of my future across the white tablecloth.
For three seconds, nobody moved.
The music continued playing through the speakers. Ice clinked inside abandoned glasses. My aunt's hand froze halfway to her mouth, and one of my classmates slowly lowered her phone, as if she couldn't believe what she had just recorded.
I stood in the middle of my father's backyard in my navy-blue graduation gown, staring at the shredded certificate in Monica's manicured hands.
I'd spent four years working for that piece of paper.
Four years of early mornings, late-night studying, cheap coffee, and falling asleep over textbooks while the rest of my family watched television downstairs.
And now, in front of nearly forty guests, Monica was smiling.
"You've wasted enough time on school!"" she announced, loud enough for everyone to hear.
"It's time you started making money for this family!""
My name is Zarya Williams. I was twenty-two years old that afternoon, and until Monica ripped my diploma, I had believed that graduating from college would finally prove I was more than the burden she'd spent six years calling me.
Apparently, I had been wrong.
"Give it back," I whispered.
Monica tilted her head.
"What was that?""
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"I said, give it back.""
She dropped the torn pieces onto the table.
"There. Take it. Since it's so important to you.""
My older brother, Damon, burst out laughing.
He was twenty-seven, wore a gold watch my father had bought him, and had spent the past three years bouncing between jobs he quit whenever a manager criticized him.
Yet somehow, in Monica's world, Damon could do no wrong.
"Come on, Zarya," he said, reaching for another slice of cake.
"You have a degree. Congratulations. Now go make yourself useful.""
"She's right," Monica added.
"You think that little college degree makes you special? Your father has been wasting money on you for years.""
I looked around at the guests.
My best friend, Tessa, stood beside the dessert table with her fists clenched. My aunt Denise had risen from her chair. Two of my professors, who had come to celebrate my graduation, exchanged horrified glances.
Nobody seemed to know what to do.
Then Damon stepped closer.
"Did you hear her?"" he demanded.
"Get away from me.""
His smile disappeared.
"What did you say?""
"I said, get away from me, Damon.""
He shoved me.
Hard.
My heels slipped on the grass, and I fell backward onto the patio, landing on one hand. A sharp sting shot through my palm. My graduation cap rolled beneath a chair.
Someone gasped.
Damon looked down at me as though I'd deliberately embarrassed him.
"Get up and go find a job!"" he shouted.
"All that studying won't do you any good if you don't contribute to this family!""
Monica doubled over laughing.
"Look at her! Four years of college, and she still can't stand on her own two feet!""
Damon joined her, their laughter cutting through the silence like broken glass.
I pressed my lips together.
I would not cry.
Not in front of them.
Not today.
My father had been away on a business trip and had promised to return that evening. He'd helped pay for my tuition, but he'd also trusted Monica to manage the household while he was gone. She had used that trust to turn every day into a battle.
She controlled the grocery money. She complained whenever I bought a textbook. She told relatives I was selfish for studying instead of working full-time.
And when I earned a scholarship that covered my final year, she told everyone I'd gotten lucky.
I'd wanted my father to see me graduate. I'd wanted him to stand beside me for a photograph and tell me he was proud.
Instead, I was sitting on the ground while his wife and son laughed.
Tessa rushed toward me.
"Zarya, are you hurt?""
"I'm fine," I whispered.
"No, you're not.""
She reached for my arm, but Monica stepped between us.
"Don't encourage her," Monica said.
"She needs to learn that the world doesn't revolve around her.""
Tessa stared at her.
"She's your husband's daughter.""
"And I'm the woman keeping this family together!""
"By tearing up her diploma?""
Monica's face hardened.
"Mind your business, young lady.""
Tessa opened her mouth, but a sudden movement near the house interrupted her.
A black briefcase came flying across the patio.
It struck Monica squarely in the face.
The impact knocked her glasses sideways. She stumbled into the table, sending a glass of lemonade crashing to the ground.
"WHO THE HELL DID THAT?!"" she screamed, clutching her cheek.
The laughter stopped.
Every head turned toward the open doorway.
A tall man stood there in a charcoal suit, one hand still gripping the doorframe. His tie hung loose around his collar. His jaw was clenched so tightly that a muscle jumped near his ear.
My father.
Richard Williams.
He looked at Monica, then at Damon, and finally at me.
I had never seen him look at anyone that way.
Not even the business partners who had tried to cheat him out of millions.
He stepped into the yard.
"I did," he said.
Monica's mouth fell open.
"Richard! Thank God you're home. Your daughter has been acting—"
"Don't.""
One word.
That was all it took to silence her.
My father walked past the broken glass. His eyes fell on the shredded diploma scattered across the table.
He picked up one piece.
Then another.
His fingers tightened around the paper.
"What happened here?""
Monica immediately straightened her dress.
"Your daughter was being disrespectful. She thinks graduating means she can sit around while the rest of us pay the bills.""
"That's a lie," Tessa said.
Damon pointed at her.
"Nobody asked you.""
My father didn't look at either of them.
He was staring at me.
"Zarya, sweetheart. Come here.""
I tried to stand, but my injured hand trembled. He crossed the remaining distance and helped me to my feet.
The moment his arm went around my shoulders, the tears I'd been fighting finally spilled over.
"I'm sorry, Dad," I whispered.
His expression changed.
"Sorry for what?""
"For ruining the party.""
He stared at me as if I'd spoken a language he couldn't understand.
Then he turned toward Monica.
"You humiliated my daughter, destroyed her hard work, and tried to steal her future.""
Monica folded her arms.
"Oh, please. You're making this into something it isn't.""
My father took one step toward her.
"Let me make one thing clear. If either of you thinks you can destroy my daughter's future and get away with it, you're about to learn just how wrong you are.""
Damon scoffed.
"You're not going to do anything to us, Dad. Monica is your wife. I'm your son.""
My father looked at him.
"Exactly. And that makes what you've done even worse.""
He reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone.
"Nobody leaves this property.""
Monica's face drained of color.
"Richard, what are you doing?""
He pressed a number.
"Calling the one person who can explain why my daughter has been paying for her own education while someone in this house has been stealing money from her college account.""
The entire backyard went silent.
I lifted my head.
My college account?
I had never told my father about the missing money. I'd assumed the bank had made a mistake.
Then Monica whispered something that made my blood run cold.
"Richard, you promised you would never bring up that account.""
May you like
My father slowly lowered the phone.
And for the first time that afternoon, Monica looked genuinely afraid.
