Undesired Family

Dinner and Rules

POV: Breanna

I follow them into the dining room and sit between Serena and Thomas. The table is full of different foods. I see baked fish with potatoes, pasta, and different types of sauces.

Everyone starts to serve themselves and I stare at my plate, waiting for permission.

At the orphanage, I was taught not to eat until I was given permission, and with my adoptive parents I was only allowed to eat leftovers.

"Is there something wrong with Breanna?" Serena asks.

I open my mouth to answer and Marco scoffs.

"She must be a bit picky," he says angrily and looks at me. "Are you on some stupid diet to get thinner than you already are? Or do you not like our food?"

I look at him with raised eyebrows.

"Do you have something against me?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"Yes, you exist," he says angrily.

Yes, it hurts, but I've been rejected enough times to pretend it doesn't affect me.

"If you talk to your sister like that again, you'll be punished," Vicente says coldly, and I see Marco swallow hard. "Breanna, why aren't you eating?"

"I was waiting for permission," I say as if it were obvious.

Everyone looks at me and I realize that they don't do that around here, maybe it's something unusual.

"You don't need permission to eat, dear," Serena says softly.

I look at her suspiciously, waiting for some sign of lying.

"She's serious, Sorella," Leonardo says seriously.

I put some food on my plate and everyone goes back to eating. I notice them look at me a few times, but no one says anything else.

I eat my food, expecting some kind of reprimand, but when it doesn't come, I relax in my chair and enjoy my dinner.

My stomach is full halfway through the meal so I push the plate away.

"Finish your meal, Breanna," Elijah says, not taking his eyes off his plate.

"I'm full," I say, and he looks at me to show that it wasn't a request. "If I eat any more, I'll throw up."

"Leave her alone, Elijah," Matteo says, taking my plate and placing the rest of my food on his.

I smile in gratitude and see Elijah glare at Matteo.

"Let's talk in the office, Breanna," Vicente says, standing up.

Serena and Leonardo follow us to the office on the second floor. We enter one with the word "Don" written on the door.

Don means boss in Italian, but boss of what?

The office is decorated in dark colors, its appearance professional but also somber.

Vicente shows me the chair in front of the desk and I sit down, Serena sits next to me and Leonardo sits behind Vicente.

"Tomorrow you're going shopping with your brothers," Vicente informs as he opens the top drawer of his desk.

He takes out some papers and I see my name on the first page.

"Breanna, like I said at the police station, we knew about you and decided to send you away without any connection to any of us to protect you," Vicente says calmly.

"Someone informed us about how you were, but it seems that not all of the information was true," Leonardo adds.

I look at them, waiting for them to finish their explanations and tell me what they want from me.

"We didn't know that you worked at that restaurant until we found you or that your adoptive parents manufactured drugs," Serena says, regretful.

"Were you too busy to check if the information, at least, was true?" I ask angrily. "Admit that you just wanted to send me away and then we can get this over with."

I speak angrily and I see that Leonardo's patience is running out.

"We were trying to protect you," he says exasperatedly.

"Protect me from what? What was so dangerous that not even my own family could protect me? What was capable of depriving me of having parents who would take care of me?" I ask, holding back tears.

"We can't tell you now," Vicente says, looking at me.

I laugh at his answer, of course he can't tell me the reason. Because there isn't one.

I'm so bad that they abandoned me when I was five years old, what did I do so wrong to deserve this treatment?

"What did I do wrong?" I ask, wiping away the stubborn tear that runs down my face.

"Daughter, you didn't do anything," Serena says quickly and comes closer to hug me, but I pull away.

"Would you have taken me away if my adoptive parents hadn't died?" I ask. "If I was at school and not working?"

They stay silent, and that's answer enough.

"Tell me the rules I need to follow and then I'll go to my room and you can continue living like I don't exist," I say angrily.

"Breanna," Vicente says as a warning.

"I'm not wrong, I'm not going to pretend you're my family just because you decided you wanted me back," I say coldly. "I'm not a toy you can play with whenever you want and throw away when you get tired of it."

Leonardo looks at me angrily and I don't care.

Vicente sighs and Serena doesn't even move.

"These are the rules, I expect you to follow them and if necessary, we will change them," Vicente says, handing me a piece of paper.

1. Never lie to any of us.

2. Whenever you go out, ask for permission and tell us where you're going, with whom and when.

3. No alcohol, cigarettes or drugs.

4. Respect everyone and always obey what they say.

5. Never go to the basement unless it's an emergency.

6. Always respond verbally so we know you understand.

7. Whenever something is wrong, call one of us, no matter where you are.

8. Keep up good grades and good behavior in school.

9. Bedtime at 10:00 p.m. on weekdays and 11:00 p.m. on weekends.

10. No boyfriends or romantic relationships.

"You start school in two days," Vicente says. "Tomorrow you're going to go shopping for clothes at eight in the morning."

"Are we done?" I ask, standing up.

"Breanna, know that none of us ever wanted to cause you any kind of pain," Serena says, her voice cracking.

I could very well say any of the things my mind is screaming, but I won't add to the pain she's already feeling.

And I won't lie, because I don't understand what was so dangerous that they sent me away and let me grow up the way I did.

"I'm going to my room," I say, and leave the office.

I go up to the third floor using the stairs I used last time and in the hallway I find my favorite brother (note the irony).

I walk to my room and Marco grabs my arm as I pass him.

I have to hold back a groan of pain and I flinch slightly.

"I don't want to see you hurting my parents with that sharp tongue," he says angrily and squeezes my arm tighter.

"You're hurting me," I say softly and he lets me go.

"I don't want you in this house or in our lives," his tone drips with hatred and my heart sinks.

"I didn't ask to be here," I reply in the same tone.

He glares and laughs before leaving me in the hallway shaking.

Who does this asshole think he is?

I go to my room and make sure to lock the door before falling into bed.

I see a pile of clothes next to my pillow, along with two towels.

I grab my clothes and head to the bathroom, throwing the towel over the mirror, blocking my reflection, and taking off my clothes.

I check a cut near my ribs and it's a little red, the other cuts are healing well.

I get in the hot water and wash my body with soap, scrubbing each part carefully and making sure all the cuts are clean.

When I'm done, I dry myself off and put on a sweatshirt and loose pants, which I have to hold up with a drawstring that I pull from the sweatshirt.

I walk over to the bed and, on the headboard, I see my bottle of pills.

I take one before bed and lay my head on the pillow, praying for no nightmares.