But then I remembered: all my belongings were already thrown out by her.
She must have cleaned everything up a long time ago.
I watched as Diane reached into the back of my closet and pulled out a small box.
Inside were all my certificates and awards, neatly organized.
I was surprised to find something like this hidden away in my closet—I had no idea it was even there.
Most of the space in my closet was taken up by Marlon's clothes, which I rarely used.
My stuff was always crammed into a couple of battered old suitcases.
After I started middle school, Diane had declared that Marlon's things were taking up too much room, so she moved my stuff into the closet.
I had protested, "If you bought him fewer clothes and toys, wouldn't that solve the problem?"
But my protests earned me nothing but a slap from Diane.
I still remembered Vincent's pained expression as he looked at my face, gently touching my swollen cheek and scolding Diane for being too hard on me.
That was the first time I'd seen Vincent speak sternly to Diane.
Although she was a stay-at-home mom and the household relied solely on Vincent's salary, he had always been so compliant and considerate towards her.
The neighbors often envied Diane for having such a devoted husband.
But the more Vincent doted on me, the harsher Diane became.
Ever since that day she hit me, it was like a switch had flipped.
She was relentless, always scolding or striking me, leaving me with bruises that made me too self-conscious to wear shorts or skirts in the summer.
