Pain was the only emotion I recognised as I drifted into consciousness. My brain tried to process what was wrong with my body but it couldn’t. I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar room and the blanket on my chest rolled to the bed as I sat up. I touched my hand to my face and winced. My cheeks hurt, my eyes stung. My entire body was burning up.

There were clothes on the floor, on the bed. Clothes that didn’t belong to me. Clothes that belonged to a man. I threw my legs over the bed and stopped with a jolt. My hands stretched in front of me, I peered down at myself and a scream tore out of me. I was naked in an unknown room. How did I get here?

I tried to stand but the soreness between my legs forced me back to the bed. Everything was wrong. I never slept naked. But here I was. I pulled the cover over my naked body, forgetting about my nudity when I noticed the bruises stretching from my upper arms to my knuckles. Someone hit me. But, who?

Looking around for something that could give a clue to my location, I suppressed a shudder when I noticed the blood on the covers. The pain between my legs became increasingly more painful and my hand clamped over my lips to silence my sobs.

Did someone…?

A headache was building just from trying to figure out how I got myself into this. My thoughts were in a jumble. I staggered to the mirror and the pain in my legs felt like nothing in comparison to the damage on my face. A sob broke free from my lips. I collapsed to the chair and the memories came tumbling down.

Yvette.

Ellen.

We were arguing when Jared fell… I shook my head and the memories became clearer. They hit me.

But we were in the house. Who brought me here?

I grabbed my clothes mixed with the stranger’s. A wristwatch fell from the pile and I threw it against the wall. He didn’t need to drop me a souvenir after stealing my innocence. The crack that appeared on the screen of the wristwatch did nothing to quell my anger but I continued on to the bathroom before the rapist returned to finish his work.

What do I tell the police? It could go like this: “Hey, officer. I woke up naked in a stranger’s room. I think I might have been raped but I’m not sure. You know these things happen all the time. What’s up?”

Laughing at my folly because I knew no one would believe me, I staggered to a stop in the bathroom. I gripped the sink, eyes closed so I wouldn’t have to look at my disfigured face in the mirror. But when my eyes opened, I was staring at a lady that looked nothing like me.

After a quick bath, I changed into my clothes. I had to get out of here and call Lucas. Thinking of him made me smile. He was one good thing in this bad world. I could hide out at his place until my wounds healed. Going to work with a swollen face like this would earn me a lot of questions I couldn’t answer.

My hand closed around the knob of the bathroom door and I stopped. There were voices in the room. I left the door open by a crack so I could see inside without being spotted. The voice was louder. Familiar.

Yvette. That slimy bitch. I knew my father made a huge mistake by marrying her mother, Ellen, but I didn’t know the real snake was her only daughter.

The urge to rush in there and slap her until she was knocked unconscious like her and her mother did to me was strong. But I stayed put. Her footsteps echoed as she came closer to the bathroom and I ducked behind the door. The door flung open, digging into my bruised stomach. I swallowed my cries.

Yvette whistled. “Is someone here?” she asked in that sweetly evil voice she used to introduce herself the first day we met. My back pressed into the wall, I would have blended into it if I could. “All right.”

Her footsteps faded and I breathed easy. I waited for the sound of the door opening but nothing. She was still in the room. Yvette left the bathroom door open and I suspected it was done on purpose. But it meant I could see through the cracks between the hinges. I moved only slightly, moist palms flat on the wall.

What was she looking for? She ruffled the bedsheet, took a few pictures and I shook my head. What did she plan to do with the pictures? Did Yvette Jackson plan this whole thing? Why wasn’t I surprised?

A knock on the door made me jump. “Who’s that?” I heard her voice. I pressed my ear to the wall. I also wanted to know who it was. “I said, who is that?”

The door opened and she stepped back. Her face relaxed. It must be someone she knew. I couldn’t see the person’s face, only the hand he stretched forward to Yvette. She shook his hand, a fake smile playing on her lips. His wristwatch looked expensive, like the type I broke. I wanted to break this one again.

“Thank you for last night,” the visitor said.

Thanks? First of all, the only woman they should be thanking is me, not that witch called my stepsister. What were they thanking her for? For molesting me or stealing my innocence? I took deep breaths and tried to stay put. Yvette couldn’t know I was here.

Two men walked into the room. They were clad in black suit with black sunglasses. I couldn’t see their faces. They picked the man’s clothes on the floor, grabbed the wristwatch and frowned at the crack. They should be grateful I didn’t do more damage to it.

“He was here,” they tell the man hiding behind the door.

Yvette was pale, her eyes following them as they moved around the room. They left the room after a few minutes and Yvette was left alone with the man behind the door. A card appeared in the man’s hand, he must have said something that made her gasp.

My stepsister collected the card and wouldn’t stop smiling. When the man was gone, she fell on her back to the bed and hugged the card to her chest.

“Thank you, Sarai! You fucking bitch!”

Anger swelled inside me as she yelled my name in excitement. I didn’t need her thanks. I needed to get out of here. Yvette sat on the bed and grinned at the card. Again, she had taken what belonged to me.

* * * * *

NOTE TO READERS: Thank you for paying attention to this book. MUMMY, WE FOUND DADDY! is an official story on the theme designated by novelcat.

This work provides the official copyright outline for novelcat, and is re-created by different authors including Maramartha, who participated in the workshop. So the theme of the story looks very similar. This creative activity is officially led by novelcat and does not involve infringement. These works are all copyrights of novelcat so feel free to read them.

But if you still have doubts about the story, please feel free to drop it and read something else.

PS: Chapters have been made short to make it easier for readers to access them.