In a small town just outside Edmonton, the air was cool, and the leaves were starting to change colors. The sky was a mix of gray and blue, with clouds that seemed to hang low, like they were trying to touch the tops of the trees. This was Sarah’s favorite time of year. She loved how the world seemed to slow down, how the leaves crunched under her feet, and how everything smelled like earth and wood smoke. But this fall, something was different.

  Sarah was thirteen, with light brown hair that she always

wore in a messy ponytail and blue eyes that were as clear as the sky on a sunny day. She lived with her mom and stepdad, Rob, in a small, cozy house at the edge of town. But things hadn’t been cozy for a while. Rob had come into their lives when Sarah was seven, not long after her older brother, Johnny, had left. Johnny was her hero. He was four years older and had always taken care of her. They would build forts in the woods, race their bikes down the gravel roads, and talk about everything. But then he left to live with his friend Ethan, and things changed.

    Sarah missed him more than anything. She hated Rob,

though she wasn’t sure why at first. Maybe it was because he wasn’t her dad. Maybe it was because, after he came, Johnny left. She blamed him for that, and over the years, the blame turned into something darker. She couldn’t stand the way Rob tried to act like he was in charge, or how he and her mom would laugh together, like they didn’t even care that Johnny was gone. 

One cold October day, Sarah sat in her room, staring out the window. She watched the leaves fall and thought about how much she wanted Johnny to come back. She knew it wouldn’t happen unless Rob left. She thought if she could just make Rob as miserable as she was, maybe

he would go away, and Johnny would come back. It made sense in her mind, so she decided to try.

First, Sarah started by ignoring Rob. She wouldn’t speak to him, wouldn’t even look at him if she could help it. When he asked her something, she would just shrug or mumble. But that didn’t seem to bother him much. So she tried harder. She “accidentally” spilled juice on his favorite chair, left her muddy shoes on the clean kitchen floor, and once, she even let the dog out without a leash, knowing it would run through Rob’s precious flower beds. Her mom got mad, but Rob just sighed, like he was tired.

But the harder she tried, the worse things got. Her mom started punishing her. First, it was small things, like no TV after school. But soon, she was grounded for a whole month. No friends, no phone, nothing. Sarah felt like she was losing everything. The tension in the house was unbearable, and she began to hate Rob even more. 

Then, one morning, everything changed. Sarah’s grandma passed away. She was the one person Sarah could talk to about anything. Her grandma had always listened to her, always understood her in a way no one else did. Sarah was devastated. But instead of

comforting her, Rob said it was her fault. He said that all the stress Sarah caused had made her grandma’s heart give out. Sarah couldn’t believe he would say something so cruel, but deep down, she worried he might be right.

Sarah couldn’t take it anymore. She packed a bag and went to live with her grandfather, who lived a few blocks away. He was kind and patient, but he was also sad, missing his wife. The house was quiet, too quiet, and Sarah found herself sinking deeper into her anger and sadness. School became a nightmare. She couldn’t concentrate, and her grades started to slip. She stopped talking to her friends, feeling like they couldn’t

understand what she was going through. The world seemed to close in around her, and she felt like she was drowning.

One evening, as she sat on the porch with her grandfather, watching the sun set behind the trees, he spoke to her in his calm, steady voice. “Sarah, you know, holding on to all that anger, it’s like drinking poison and hoping someone else gets sick. It’s only hurting you, not Rob, not your mom, not anyone else.”

Sarah looked at him, surprised. She hadn’t told him everything, but somehow, he knew. “But it’s not fair,” she