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No Flowers for the Unwanted Child Novel Cover

No Flowers for the Unwanted Child

After discovering a disturbing truth online at age thirty, a woman realizes her parents actively tried to let her die as a child to bypass birth limits for a son. From untreated injuries that left her disabled to constant favoritism toward her cousin, her upbringing was pure torment. Suddenly sent back to the freezing winter of her eighteenth year, she wakes up to her mother’s cruel insults. Staring at a hidden bottle of poison, she decides she will no longer survive their malice quietly.
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Chapter 4

My grandfather passed away when I was very small. Grandma had lived alone all these years.

When I arrived at her house, she was knitting a sweater. Pink—my favorite color.

She'd finished most of it. She held it up, measuring it against the air, murmuring to herself. "Sophie must be so much bigger now. I wonder if this will even fit her."

I knew Grandma had knitted sweaters for me before, but I'd never worn a single one. Mom either gave them to the neighbors or handed them off to coworkers. One way or another, none of them ever reached me.

I drifted to Grandma's side and reached for the sweater, running my fingers over it.

Even though I couldn't feel anything, I could still imagine how warm it would be.

In my memory, Grandma didn't survive this winter. The only person in the world who truly loved me was about to leave, too.

I leaned against her shoulder and let myself fall into a deep sleep.

I slept soundly. Somewhere in the haze, I heard my mother's voice.

"Where did Sophie go?"

I jolted awake.

Had Mom realized something happened to me?

But I quickly saw that this wasn't a dream. Mom was really here.

She walked through Grandma's front door and asked, "Mom, is Sophie here with you?"

Grandma shook her head, confused. "I haven't seen her..."

"That's strange..."

Mom muttered under her breath, complaining. "She doesn't go to school, she doesn't come home after school. Who knows where she's run off to. That girl never gives me a moment's peace."

Grandma's expression changed instantly.

"The child has been missing this long and you're not the least bit worried?"

Mom looked completely unbothered. "What do you mean I'm not worried? She's the one running around. She threw a tantrum at me just yesterday. I must have the worst luck in eight lifetimes to have given birth to that ungrateful brat."

Grandma trembled with rage. She pointed a finger right at Mom's face.

"Don't think I don't know what's going on in that head of yours!"

"You can't have a second child, so you're hoping Sophie just drops dead. Is that it?"

"Sophie may be a girl, but she's a good child. Don't you dare be this heartless!"

Exposed, Mom's face twisted.

"What nonsense are you spouting? You've really gone senile."

She said nothing more. She turned, got on her bike, and rode away, leaving Grandma standing there wiping her tears.

My heart ached. I reached out to brush the tears from her cheeks, but my hand passed straight through her.

Grandma, just wait for me a little longer. Once this winter is over, we'll see each other again.

I went back home. Friday evening, Mom and Dad took my cousin out for dinner. They ate their fill, came back satisfied. Dad trimmed the plants in the yard. Mom watched her favorite variety show. Nobody remembered me.

The next day was Saturday. They packed up and got ready for a hike in the hills outside town.

Just as they were about to leave, someone knocked on the door.

It was Ms. Lambert, my homeroom teacher.

She wore a smile on her face, but there was no warmth behind her eyes.

"Ms. Lambert?" Mom looked startled. "What brings you here?"

"Today is home visit day. Sophie didn't tell you?"

Mom let out an awkward laugh. Dad stepped in to smooth things over. "That's Sophie for you. Never tells us anything. This is the first we're hearing of it!"

"Don't make excuses for your own negligence."

Ms. Lambert frowned, then peered past Mom into the house. "Where is Sophie?"

Mom recovered quickly. "She went to her grandmother's house! That's why she didn't mention it."

Ms. Lambert looked skeptical. She reached into her bag and pulled out an elegant handmade card.

I recognized it immediately. It was the card I'd made for Mom last week for Thanksgiving.

"Every student in the class took theirs home," Ms. Lambert said. "Except Sophie."

Ms. Lambert's gaze swept over my mother.

"Your daughter has always been terrified of you. Have you been abusing her?"

Her words were razor-sharp, leaving no room for excuses.

"I would never, Ms. Lambert! You're accusing me of something I didn't do!" My mother immediately put on a pitiful, wounded expression.

My father chimed in to back her up. "Sophie's thin because she refuses to eat properly. She's always getting sick because she won't wear enough layers no matter what we tell her. That's got nothing to do with us, Ms. Lambert!"

Kevin jumped in too. "That's right, Ms. Lambert. My aunt and uncle have been so good to her. She's the one who doesn't appreciate it!"

Ms. Lambert didn't take the bait. She said quietly, "I have reason to believe she may be in danger. She might have climbed into a cabinet or closet somewhere and gotten stuck. It would be best if we checked."

My parents exchanged a glance, then agreed to let her look. They turned the whole house upside down, but they didn't find me.

"Mrs. Harding, does your house also have a basement?"

My heart seized.

Was someone finally going to find my body?

My mother rushed to answer. "Ms. Lambert, there's been a dead rat down there recently. The smell is just awful..."

Ms. Lambert pressed her lips together. "That's not good. In that case..."

She didn't hesitate. She grabbed a flashlight and headed for the basement.

The beam cut through the doorway. Just a few more steps and she would have seen my body.

But my father blocked her path.

"Ms. Lambert, this is a family matter. Don't you think you're overstepping a little?"

Ms. Lambert held up her phone. Three numbers glowed on the screen: 911.

"My student has been missing for over twenty-four hours. I have every right to call the police."

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