Hi guys! This is my first fanfic! I have written my own stories in the past, but this is my first time writing for an audience. Enjoy!

Edit 7/7/18: Very minor updates

I zip up my backpack as the front door slams. "Clarissa?" A deep voice yells. "Where are you? I'm back from court!"

Rolling my eyes, I stand and push open my bedroom door to slip from my meager excuse for a bedroom into the kitchen, where my father has slumped down at the table. "How did it go?" I ask. I'm worried that he'll say it went poorly, but I'm even more worried that he'll tell me everything went just as planned.

"Get me a glass of water," he commands, completely ignoring my question.

"How was court?"

"Water." He points to the tap, his glare warning me not to push him. I huff, turn to the sink to fill up a small cup, and pound it on the table in front of him. A drop of water sloshes out of it and rolls down the glass. "Watch the attitude," he warns. "I'm not in the mood tonight."

I take a deep breath to calm myself and rephrase my question. "Did everything go as planned?"

His lips part in a sinister smile. "See for yourself, Clarissa Fray." He pushes a thick, formal-looking paper across the table. I pick it up, fighting the frown that threatens to break past my passive features. I read three names: Clarissa Fray, Valentine Fray, and, beneath that, the one that breaks my heart: Jocelyn Fray. The three legal residents of our new apartment in Brooklyn, New York.

"She's coming back?" I don't even bother trying to hide the surprise in my voice. Surely, after what happened, the judge wouldn't make her return.

"Of course she is. Did you doubt my persuasiveness?"

No, I think, I just hoped to God that the judge would have seen through your lies. "How did you convince them this time?"

My father laughs, but it isn't friendly. It's a warning. "It was easy, really. I just had Jonathan visit her in the hospital. He made it perfectly clear what would happen if she didn't cooperate. She was easily convinced, and she performed seamlessly in court. She barely remembers the incident, anyways. The judge had no choice but to rule in my favor. Taking on your mother's maiden name only further proved what a happy family we are and how much I truly care for her. She will be released from the hospital tomorrow, and I have arranged for her to fly straight to New York. She should arrive here just after you get home from work."

"Work?" I ask. "I don't have a job."

"Oh yes, I forgot. Jonathan is in need of a new assistant. His old one… no longer holds her position. It's time you pulled your weight around here, so I told him you would fill the open spot. You start tomorrow. It is five blocks from your new school. You can walk there once your classes finish."

I gape at him. "You can't be serious."

"What's wrong? He seemed excited by the idea. Jonathan has always taken quite an interest in you. I think you two will work together nicely."

"No, Dad," I say, clenching my fists to keep my voice calm and even. Jonathan is Dad's young, promising lawyer. He takes after my father so much it's scary. And I know this 'interest' he's taken in me is far from platonic admiration. "You can't make me work for that creep."

"Clarissa, it has already been arranged. And do not refer to Jonathan as a creep."

"But Dad, he is. I know what happened to his old assistant, how she's in therapy now because he—"

The slap is so quick, so fast that I barely register it before my father is standing less than an inch in front of me. He towers over me, and I brace myself for the next blows. He had seemed civil, but his serenity rarely lasts a full night. "Don't you dare say that about Jonathan, do you hear me?" Another slap. I resist the urge to clutch my throbbing cheek. Doing so will only fuel his anger. "You know nothing. You are nothing. You're just a naïve, 17-year-old girl. So keep quiet and do as I tell you." He pauses to look at me for a moment, deciding what to say next. "Go to bed."

"You know, you wouldn't get into all this trouble if you'd just stop hitting us all the time."

Shit. Did I just say that out loud? My brazenness slips away, and suddenly I want nothing more than to follow his command and go to bed without a fight. Of course, with what I just said, there is no way that will happen.

"What?" His voice is dangerously low, and I sneak a look up at his expression, only to feel the full force of the fist that suddenly strikes my left eye. The punch sends me backwards, and I fall to the ground, a small yelp escaping me as I do. "Quiet," he hisses. "We're in an apartment now. We have neighbors; we aren't in the middle of nowhere Montana anymore." A sharp kick to my stomach leaves me breathless and gasping for air. "People might hear us, and I don't want anybody asking questions. You hear?" I manage a nod as another kick finds my ribs. Bringing my hands up to protect my face, I quietly submit to my father's beating.

Half an hour later, my father, having tired of the abuse, heads to bed. I lie on the floor for a moment, assessing my bruises, before I push myself to my feet and collapse on my small bed in my small room. Sleep evades me. Instead, my thoughts race. I wonder how different my new life will be in this big city, in a big new school, under the control of a man I neither respect nor love.

So what did you think? Should I keep going? All reviews (critical or complimentary) would be much appreciated. As I said, this is my first time writing for an audience, so if there is anything I should do that I don't know about, let me know :D

I'm hoping to update once a week, but if I deviate from that schedule a little bit, forgive me in advance!
Subsequent chapters will be longer