ANVIKA

My father says I’m the worst kind of dog he’s ever had. Not a child, not his daughter—just something he wishes he could sell off to be rid of. I’m his elder daughter. The one who should have died years ago. And maybe I did, in a way. Because it doesn’t hurt anymore—not since the night I let the dark world feed on me. From that moment, I stopped being his daughter and became something else entirely.