Chapter 3: A Pawn in Two Families

When the Foster family’s driver came to pick me up, he reminded me to take off my diamond ring.

He spoke softly, almost apologetic. “Best not to wear that around the house, Miss Autumn. Mrs. Foster doesn’t like reminders.” I slipped it off and tucked it into my purse, feeling strangely lighter.

The two families always had business ties. Savannah Foster had once been infatuated with Harrison.

It was the kind of thing everyone knew but no one talked about. Her crush on Harrison was just another piece of gossip in a town that thrived on secrets.

She’d even followed him around campus, but she was young, and with the Foster family behind her, no one made a fuss. Her eyes shining with hope.

“I told you, I don’t want Autumn coming with me!”

Her voice echoed down the hallway, sharp and petulant. I paused at the door, steeling myself for the storm inside.

“No way. You’re going hiking, and you’ll be camping on the ridge. What if something happens?”

Mrs. Foster’s tone was firm, but I could hear the worry underneath. Savannah’s heart condition made every outing a risk.

I hadn’t even gone in yet and could already hear them arguing. It was always like this—Savannah pushing boundaries, Mrs. Foster reeling her back in.

For Savannah’s safety, if she went anywhere for more than two days, I had to go with her.

It was an unspoken rule, one I never questioned. My life wasn’t my own—it belonged to Savannah, to the Fosters, to anyone who needed something from me.

The hospital I worked at was owned by the Fosters. One missed call could mean disaster—for Savannah, for me.

Savannah smashed a vase on the table. When she saw me, her eyes were full of hate.

The crash echoed through the house, shards of glass scattering across the hardwood. Savannah glared at me, her chest heaving.

Smack—

As I walked closer, she slapped me across the face. My cheek stung, but I didn’t react.

She stormed upstairs in a rage. Mrs. Foster was used to it, sipping her tea calmly. She didn’t even look up, just stirred and took a slow sip.

“Savannah’s in love.”

Her voice was almost wistful, as if she remembered what it felt like to be young and reckless.

“She doesn’t want me tagging along.”

I tried to keep my tone neutral, but it came out bitter. Mrs. Foster just shrugged.

“No matter how spoiled she is, she wouldn’t actually push you off a mountain. Keep an eye on them. Don’t let that boy lay a finger on her.”

She leaned forward, her eyes sharp. “You know how important she is. I’m trusting you, Autumn.”

With her heart condition, Savannah had always gotten whatever she wanted—except when it came to dating.

Boys were off-limits, but everything else was hers for the taking. I was just another possession, something to be used and discarded.

“Anything else?”

I hesitated, then forced the words out. “Mom, I want to divorce Harrison.”

Hearing me call her ‘Mom,’ Mrs. Foster frowned. The word tasted strange on my tongue, unfamiliar and heavy.

When Savannah was five, she kicked a stray dog outside an orphanage. The dog barked and lunged at her.

I remembered the scene vividly—the dusty yard, the sun beating down, Savannah’s shrill scream. The dog wasn’t dangerous, just scared.

I used to feed that stray. I watched a truck run it over.

The sound haunted me for weeks. I’d loved that dog, but Savannah didn’t care. She just wanted to prove she was in control.

Before I could even grieve, Savannah told the Fosters to adopt me.

She’d marched into the office, chin held high. “I want that girl. She’s useful.” That was all it took.

No special reason—she just figured it’d be handy to have someone to shield her in the future.

It was never about kindness, just convenience. I was a safety net, nothing more.

I lived with the Foster family for twelve years, but I’d never called her mother.

The word felt foreign, like a language I didn’t speak. I was always the outsider, the one who didn’t quite belong.

This was my first time asking her for something. My voice shook, but I held her gaze.

“Did the Whitmores agree?”

Her tone was skeptical, as if she couldn’t believe I’d have the nerve to ask.

“No.” My throat was tight. “I’ve taken care of Savannah all these years. I hope you can help me, just this once.”

I felt like a child again, begging for scraps. I hated how small I sounded.

“No, Autumn. Savannah and the Fosters have been good to you. I put you into a wealthy family and changed what would’ve been a wasted life.”

She spoke as if she’d done me a favor, as if I should be grateful for every indignity. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t even bring this up. The Whitmores gave you more money than you could ever spend and a respectable name. You should learn to be grateful.”

Her words stung, but I bit my tongue. She’d already made up her mind.

She was firm. When she finished, she waved me off. “Go on.”

I stood there for a moment, hoping she’d change her mind. My shoulders heavy with defeat.