Chapter 5: Outwitting the Ray Family

When I offered tea, she wouldn't take it and poured the whole cup over my hand.

The scalding liquid made me gasp, but I bit my tongue, refusing to cry out. The room went silent, all eyes on me.

A sharp voice hovered above me.

"A bought woman—who knows if you can even have kids. What right do you have to offer me tea? If my son becomes county commissioner and you haven't given birth to a son by then, get out!"

Her words sliced through me, leaving me raw and exposed. I pressed my burned hand to my dress, swallowing the pain.

My hand was scalded red. I turned to see Tom grinning.

He leaned back in his chair, smug and satisfied. I realized then that I was truly alone.

Tom's real name was Thomas Raymond.

The Ray family had hired a fortune teller to name him, saying Thomas was destined to be a county commissioner.

They believed in that kind of thing, even hung a framed horoscope on the wall above the fireplace. Tom thought it meant he was born for greatness.

So he thought highly of himself, looked down on the family business, and refused to work. Every day he ate, drank, and gambled, waiting for the county commissioner job to fall into his lap.

He’d spend his afternoons at the bar, telling anyone who’d listen that he was destined for more. The only thing he ever worked at was avoiding responsibility.

The guests teased him, some bold enough to joke,

"You're thirty-seven, right? Kinda old to be marrying a kid, don’t you think?"

Their laughter rang out, sharp and mean. I shrank in my seat, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me.

I stiffened, and the hand pinching my waist tightened.

I bit my lip, fighting back tears. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

"What do you know? I'm destined to be a commissioner. This woman has no idea how lucky she is to be with me."

He puffed out his chest, slurring his words. The guests snickered, exchanging glances.

Everyone around covered their mouths, watching him make a fool of himself.

I felt their eyes on me, full of pity and judgment. I stared at my plate, wishing I could vanish.

"You better watch your little wife. Don't let her run off with someone else because you're old and ugly."

Tom cursed and told them to get lost.

He slammed his fist on the table, sending silverware clattering. The guests scattered, laughing as they went.

I broke out in a cold sweat. My hands went clammy, heart racing. I could feel the danger simmering beneath his smile. I knew I’d pay for their laughter later.

Sure enough, that night he came after me.

His footsteps thundered down the hall, the smell of whiskey heavy in the air. I braced myself, heart pounding.

"Were you deaf when Mike was talking today?"

He yanked my hair and tore the velvet flower from my head.

The pain made my eyes water, but I kept my mouth shut. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

It hurt, and I fell to my knees.

The carpet scratched my bare legs, but I didn’t move. I stayed perfectly still, waiting for him to finish.

"I just got here and you're already accusing me. It was Mike who was out of line. I don't agree with him at all. I'm still waiting for you to become county commissioner and take me to Duluth."

I deliberately emphasized 'county commissioner' and 'Duluth,' and his expression softened.

His ego swelled, and for a moment, he forgot his anger. I learned quickly how to play his moods.

"So that's what you're after—just like your deadbeat dad, both greedy for money. Damn!"

He spat the words at me, but I just nodded, letting him believe whatever he wanted.

I cursed him silently. The moment his hand reached over, I swore to myself:

From now on, I'll make a name for myself and make my parents regret everything.

I pictured myself standing tall, looking them in the eye, making them see what they’d lost.

Then I'll stand in front of them and say: This is the daughter you didn't want.

I clung to that image, letting it fuel me through the worst nights.

After arriving at the Ray family, my life actually improved a lot.

The food was better, and I had my own room. The silence was a relief, even if it was lonely.

Though I wasn't valued, at least I could eat my fill.

I stopped waking up hungry, and for the first time in years, I felt my body start to heal.

More importantly, Mr. and Mrs. Ray were out doing business during the day, and Tom was always out eating, drinking, and gambling, so I had plenty of free time.

The house was quiet, the hours stretching out before me. I used them well.

I took the money I'd brought from home, bought a couple bottles of cheap whiskey for the town's old accountant, and begged him to teach me bookkeeping.

He was surprised at first, but the promise of whiskey loosened his tongue. We sat at his kitchen table, the smell of dust and old paper thick in the air.

He finished the whiskey and agreed.

His hands shook as he poured himself a glass, but his mind was sharp. He started with the basics, and I soaked up every word.

For the first time, I experienced the joy of learning to read. Even while cleaning, I couldn't help but recite what I'd learned.

I’d mutter numbers and formulas under my breath as I scrubbed floors, the rhythm of my chores matching the rhythm of my lessons.

I learned quickly, and soon the old accountant had nothing left to teach me.

He said I had a knack for it, that I was wasted in a place like this. I smiled, tucking his praise away for later.