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PROLOGUE

I gripped the edge of the mottled mattress as a leather belt whipped across my bare back.

My punishment was ten lashes and an early bedtime with no supper.

My crime?

Love.

I loved more than I should have. I loved all things, big and small. Today I’d loved a biscuit-colored bunny with an injured leg that had scampered across our driveway. I had loved it enough to carry it into our one-car garage and tend to the wound with a purple Band-Aid I’d snuck from the hall closet while Mom was sound asleep with an empty bottle of gin clutched to her chest.

Father had come home from work thirty minutes early and caught me wallowing in that love, holding the trembling bunny in my arms and humming my favorite song to calm its quivering. Blood had oozed all over the garage floor, the same shade of red as his angry face when he’d discovered the mess.

“In the house. Right now.” Violet veins had popped in his neck, meaty fists clenching at his sides. “Meet me in the den.”

I’d obeyed.

And now my body jerked with each flog.

Father made me count out loud as the ruddy-brown belt slashed down on me and painted fiery lines across my skin. Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. He hated emotion. Hated weakness. Crying only made him more furious.

Mom slept through the whole thing.

Not that it mattered—she wouldn’t have stopped it, anyway. My mother turned her back on me whenever my back was beaten to every shade of blue.

Maybe it was out of fear. Maybe it was out of unlove.

Father didn’t love me; Mom didn’t love me enough.

I guess that was why I loved too much. I had a lot of loveless holes to fill.

When the punishment was complete, I lowered my dirt-stained T-shirt and tipped my chin as Father relaced his belt through the belt holes of his worn jeans. “I’m sorry, Father. I’ll go clean up the mess now.” My feet itched to rush past him toward the garage, but I waited for permission.

Father eyed me, his icy gaze sliding down my bony frame as I folded in my lips to keep them from quivering. “You’ll go straight to bed, that’s what you’ll do.”

“But it’s only four o’clock. It’s too bright and sunny to fall asleep, and?—”

“You want to lose supper tomorrow, too?” He thwacked me upside the head with a flat palm. “Do as you’re told, you smart-mouthed brat.”

“Yes, Father.” I slunk past him with defeat as my cotton shirt scratched at the nasty welts blooming on my spine.

“You know what? Think I changed my mind,” Father said before I slipped out of the den. “I’ll bring a hot plate of supper to your door.”

My stomach grumbled with anticipation.

Was he lying?

Father was never kind to me.

Maybe he saw how upset I was. How petrified and sad. There had to be a spark of humanity buried inside his jet-black heart.

Pivoting around, a flicker of hope jumped between my ribs as I stared at him with wide eyes.

Father smirked and latched the belt buckle into place. “I’ll leave a nice helping of rabbit outside your room in a few hours. My treat.”

It took a minute for his words to sink in.

And when they did, they sunk me.