Half a Holy Medal

At the Marchetti family's homecoming banquet, I was the girl carrying a tray and clearing empty glasses. The girl who had taken my name splashed half a glass of red wine in my face and laughed. "Look at that. The mutt even knows how to heel." Three hundred people watched. Not one spoke up for me - including the man seated at the head of the room. My own brother. I bent down, picked up the ring she'd dropped, wiped it clean, and handed it back to her with both hands. She was so pleased with herself that she posted the photo online that night with a caption: "A true heiress shouldn't have to dirty her hands." What she didn't know was that the name engraved inside that ring belonged to my mother. And she had no idea that the man who came to draw blood the next day would recognize the scar on the back of my neck.

Oleh Stormborne Princess