**Chapter 1: Fractured Pieces**

The dim glow of the setting sun seeped through the grimy windows of their small apartment, casting an orange hue over the worn furniture and scattered belongings. Ashley Frangipane, a 17-year-old foster kid, slumped on the couch, her eyes fixed on the cracked screen of her phone. Her sister, Erica, 24, stood at the kitchen counter, busily preparing dinner while keeping a watchful eye on Ashley. The sisters' lives had been forever changed when their parents were brutally murdered in a home invasion when Ashley was just four years old. Erica, only nine at the time, had become Ashley's guardian overnight. As they navigated the complexities of the foster care system, the sisters often found themselves shuffled from one home to another, but they always managed to end up back together. Ashley's eyes drifted away from her phone, her gaze wandering around the cluttered room. The air was thick with tension, a familiar sensation that seemed to follow her everywhere. She knew it was a result of her own doing – her behaviour had been erratic and volatile lately, a constant struggle to keep her emotions in check. Erica cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "Ash, can you please set the table?" Her voice was laced with a gentle firmness, a tone Ashley had grown accustomed to over the years. Ashley reluctantly got up, her long, curly brown hair bouncing with each step. She began to mechanically set the table, her mind elsewhere. Her thoughts often drifted back to the day her parents were taken from her, the memories fragmented and unclear. The pain and anger that lingered had become a toxic mix, fueling her self-destructive behaviour. As she placed the last fork on the table, Erica called out, "Ashley, can we talk?" Her voice was hesitant, and Ashley's heart sank. She knew that tone, too – it was the precursor to a lecture or, worse, a lecture that would inevitably end in tears. Ashley turned, her eyes challenging Erica. "What's there to talk about?" She crossed her arms, a defensive posture she often defaulted to. Erica sighed, wiping her hands on a towel. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Ash. Your behaviour has been getting worse. The fights at school, the detention... it's not like you to act out like this." Ashley's gaze dropped, and she shrugged, a careless movement that belied the turmoil brewing inside. "I'm fine, Erica. Just leave it alone." The air seemed to vibrate with unspoken words, the silence between them heavy with concern and frustration. Erica's eyes searched Ashley's, hoping to find a glimmer of understanding, but Ashley's mask remained firmly in place. As they sat down to eat, the tension between them was palpable, a reminder that the fragile peace they had managed to build was on the verge of shattering. And Ashley wasn't sure if she was ready to pick up the pieces.