Flame of Vengeance: A Gift for My Uncle's Family

One day, Officer Brister showed up out of the blue.

"Carrie, you're free to go," she said.

I felt a wave of relief. "Did you find any evidence that I was attacked?"

She sighed and shook her head. "No, but Kennith dropped the charges."

My stomach flipped. Why would he suddenly let me off the hook?

As I stepped out of the detention center, I saw my younger brother waiting for me on his motorcycle, grinning like an idiot.

He's five years younger than me and still in high school. Growing up, our parents were always working, so I basically raised him. We had always been super close, maybe even more so than with our parents.

He came to pick me up and we headed home.

When we got there, my parents were already waiting. The moment they saw me, their faces were a mix of relief and worry.

"Carrie’s back! Go wash up, the food’s probably cold by now," my mom said, waving a sage stick around me like she was trying to clear away the bad vibes.

There was this old tradition in my hometown where if you had been somewhere unclean, you would use a sage stick to ward off bad luck. Seeing the looks on my parents’ faces, I knew things were far from okay.

At the dinner table, my mom finally spoke up. "Carrie, why don’t you just marry Kennith?"

I felt my frustration boil over. It was clear they were trying to use me as leverage. They weren’t going to let this go easily.

"If this is what it takes to avoid them pressing charges," I said, my voice steady but my anger barely contained.

My dad didn’t say a word, just puffed on his cigarette, lost in thought. My mom put down her spoon and sighed heavily.

"I’d rather go to jail than marry him," I said resolutely.

My mom, knowing how stubborn I could be, started to cry. "Carrie, don’t talk like that. You’re still young. If you end up in jail, your whole life will be ruined."

"He and I are relatives, so we can’t even get a marriage certificate. What are you thinking?" I said, frustration and disbelief in my voice.

My dad, clearly fuming, crushed the cigarette butt under his heel. "Tomorrow, we’re applying for adoption withdrawal," he said, confirming Grandma’s earlier claim. It was true—I really wasn’t my parents' biological daughter.

Dallas, my younger brother, stood up abruptly and made for the door.

My dad’s voice cut through the tension. "Dallas, where are you going?"

Dallas stopped in his tracks, his body trembling with anger. "Carrie can’t marry him. I’m going to have it out with his family."

My dad’s face darkened and he slammed his hand on the table. "You better not. If you want your sister to avoid more trouble, just keep quiet."

The house fell silent except for my dad’s heavy sighs and my mom’s quiet weeping.

Desperate and feeling trapped, I finally spoke up. "Okay, I’ll marry him," I said, my voice tight with resignation. Without waiting for their reaction, I stormed out of the room, leaving my family in stunned silence.