Reaper in Pigtails: Curing the Broken Billionaire

The live stream comments floating above my head just confirmed it: my new brother is scheduled to die tonight. Im six years old, and apparently, Im the villain of this story.

According to the scrolling text, Sebastian is the tragic Second Leadrich, handsome, and currently weeping in a bathtub because the heroine dumped him for the main character. The chat is screaming that his "Bad Ending" is locked.

They say hes preparing his exit strategy. They say Im just a glitch, a little monster who will only make things worse.

Spoiler alert: Theyre wrong.

Im gripping a crumpled piece of paper with his address, and Im not going there to push him over the edge. Im going there because Im bored, Im hungry, and if he thinks he gets to escape this hellhole of a world before he buys me dinner, hes got another thing coming.

Chapter 1

I spent a week with a dictionary, decoding the floating text.

Bottom line: I needed to find this "Tortured Billionaire" everyone was obsessed with.

Im six. I wasn't looking for a boyfriend, despite what the creepy comments said about the twenty-three-year-old billionaire. And I certainly wasn't looking to save him.

The real reason? Id already wrecked this orphanage.

Im not the "sweet, misunderstood orphan" the chat claimed. Im bad news.

I spent my toddler years riding Cecil like a horse. One hand ripping out his hair, the other choking him out.

"Daddy's daddy is called Uncle."

Cecil was a saint. Even while his eyes rolled back in his head, he tried to correct me.

"Harlow Daddy's daddy is Grandpa"

Like I cared. Im an orphan. No daddy. Definitely no grandpa.

I wasn't always a monster. Humans are weird. Sometimes my "good" side took over. Like when the adults complained about the drought. I climbed the roof with a watering can to make it rain.

Except the can was full of weed killer.

Now the whole yard is dead. Scorched earth. Just like Cecils scalp.

The teachers said bad kids get spanked.

I took that personally.

Any kid stepped out of line? I yanked their pants down and spanked them right there in the hallway. Now the other kids run like roaches when I walk in, holding their butts.

Cecil was down to three hairs. That wouldn't last me the weekend.

I was bored. Time for a new map.

Saving Sebastian? That costs extra. But a free toy delivered to my door? Im playing with it.

Cecil was happy. Too happy. He gripped that address paper so hard his knuckles turned white. He ran so fast he lost a slipper.

Thirty minutes later, I was in a car heading to Sebastians estate.

I stood before the giant front door. Holding a duck. A live, breathing duck. My only friend in the hellhole.

Cecil didn't argue. As long as I didn't take him, I could have taken the roof.

"Good to bring a gift. Maybe he won't return you," Cecil whispered to Cliff, the driver. "Drop her and run. Were throwing a party tonight."

I choked the ducks neck with one hand and banged on the door with the other.

Im tiny. The heavy wood barely made a sound.

Silence.

I was done waiting.

The text scrolled fast above my head.

[Why is the villainess here? She's six. What's the plan?]

[Forget it. The system is broken. Giselle treated Sebastian like a dog and kicked him out. Meanwhile, Harlow is still figuring out potty training.]

[If she doesn't hurry, Sebastian is toast. Giselle gaslit him for years and moved on instantly. He's in the bathtub right now.]

Too many big words.

I kept knocking. No one answered. Now I was mad.

I walked around the yard until I found a loose brick.

The neighbors house had a ladder. But for me? It was a mountain.

I dragged it, huffing and puffing, and put it under the lowest window. Brick in hand. I started to climb.

Chapter 2

I pressed my face against the glass.

Inside, it was a sauna. Steam was thick. And the floor was red.

I swung the brick.

CRASH.

Glass exploded inward.

The guy in the tub jerked, thrashing like a fish out of water.

He failed. He flopped back into the water with a wet slap, choking on a mouthful of pink water. He turned his head, coughing, water dripping from his nose.

Our eyes locked.

"Am I seeing things?" he rasped. "Am I haunted now?"

I wrinkled my nose. So this was the Second Lead. Sure, he was better looking than Cecil, but the bathroom looked like a crime scene. Messy.

[Oh my god! Sweetheart! My little angel!]

[The redemption arc crashed through the window! He must think shes an angel sent from heaven!]

[True Love has arrived!!!]

[Are you sure thats not the Grim Reaper?]

The text was losing its mind. We, however, were dead calm.

We spoke at the exact same time.

"Come get me. I'm stuck."

"Where did this brat come from? Get lost."

Silence.

He broke first.

Sebastian groaned, dragging himself out of the tub. His skin was paper white. Major blood loss.

"Can't even die in peace," he mumbled.

He stumbled, leaning against the wall. Drip. Drip. Drip. A trail of red followed him. The cut on his wrist was deep.

By the time he hit the living room, his knees were shaking. He paused.

Why do I care? he thought. Im checking out anyway. Let the kid hang there. Not my problem.

All he had to do was close his eyes. Let the darkness take him.

But then he remembered my eyes.

A shiver went down his spine. He forced himself up. He grabbed a towel and wrapped his wrist tight. Didn't want to scare the kid before he died.

He unlocked the front door.

And I immediately tackled him.

I slammed into his legs, brick still in hand.

THWACK.

I smashed the brick against his shin.

"Who are you calling a brat? Didn't Cecil tell you I was coming? Pick a better day to die!"

Sebastians vision went black. He dropped to the floor.

Is it just me, he wondered, or does my leg hurt more than my wrist?

Cecil

His brain was foggy. He dug through the memories. An hour ago. A phone call. Something about a distant cousin's granddaughter needing a place to stay.

Mother.

A bitter smile twisted his lips. That word just made him want to cut deeper.

"Send her," he had whispered.

He thought it was a prank. He didn't care. He was a dead man walking.

But now

A six-year-old girl stood over him, hands on her hips. And a duck.

Not a prank.

"Whose dumpster baby are you?" he wheezed.

I looked at his pale lips and shook my head. Disgusting.

"Ugly. Smelly. And rude."

Sebastian opened his mouth to yell, his chest heaving with rage. But the darkness won. His eyes rolled back.

Out cold.

Chapter 3

He woke up in a hospital room.

The nurse sighed, fixing his IV. "You're a handsome guy. Whole life ahead of you. Why throw it away?"

Sebastian looked down at the bandage on his wrist. He didn't answer. He just walked out.

When he got back to the villa, he frowned.

The house, usually dark as a tomb, was glowing with light. Someone was inside.

The door clicked. I spun around, shoving a fistful of chips into my mouth.

Original plan: Call 911, then leave.

New plan: I found his snack stash. Im staying.

Sebastian stood in the living room, staring in horror. I waved a greasy hand.

"The drowned rat returns. Do you have this flavor in a family size? Im still hungry."

[Oh boy. Sebastian has OCD. The kid is getting crumbs everywhere. Hes going to snap.]

[Youre worried about crumbs? Look at the floor. Thats duck poop.]

He crossed the room in two strides and picked me up by the collar.

"Who are you? Get out of my house. Go find your mother."

I blinked. "No mom."

"No home."

"Cecil said I live here now. You have to take care of me."

Sebastian froze.

Our eyes locked. I saw his pupils shrink. His hand shook on my collar.

The text floated by, happy.

[Target: Immune.]

He stared at me for a long time. Then, like his strings were cut, he fell onto the sofa. Done.

He lay there, still. A corpse again.

I poked his arm. "Done resting? If you're done, can you turn my duck white again?"

He turned his head slowly. "What duck?"

I pointed to the bathroom.

Quack.

Sebastians eyes went wide. He ran for the bathroom.

The room was still a crime scene, but now the blood was watered down. The water was bright pink. The duck was flapping its wings in the tub, living its best life. Like a swan in strawberry milk.

I chewed on a Hot Cheeto, wiping the red dust onto Sebastians expensive dress pants.

"My duck is pink now. I don't like it. I want the original version."

Sebastian let out a sound like a tea kettle screaming.

"MY BATHTUB!"

He lunged for the bird.

The duck panicked. It flew out of the tub, flapping wild.

Total chaos.

Pink feathers. Bloody water droplets. And because the duck was scaredflying poop. Everywhere.

The chat chimed in.

[I can't watch. Its too beautiful.]

[He doesn't look like a billionaire CEO anymore. He looks like a fool chasing dinner.]

Ten minutes later, the duck and I were banished to the sofa.

The cushions were full of crumbs and feathers. Sebastian was mopping the floor, teeth clenched so hard I could hear them grinding.

My "good" side flickered on. I decided to be helpful.

"Your wrist is bleeding again."

He whipped his head around, glaring. "Shut up. And stop wiping Cheeto dust on my leather sofa."

The phone on the table buzzed.

I picked it up. "Someone's calling you!"

He didn't even look up. He was scrubbing a stain. "Don't touch my phone with your dirty hands!"

"Hang up! Can't you see I'm busy?!"

"Okay."

He said to hang up. Not my fault.

Chapter 4

The text was stunned.

[The Ice King turned into a soccer mom. Kids make everyone crazy.]

[Giselle must be confused. Her simp just hung up on her for the first time ever.]

I don't know why Sebastian let me stay. But he wasn't total trash. He even prepped a guest room.

He threw me into the bathroom. "Scrub the duck. Scrub yourself. Don't come out until you're both clean."

I took him literally. I stayed in there for three hours.

At midnight, he started pounding on the door.

"Are you done yet?!"

I rolled my eyes. For a billionaire, he was really cheap about the water bill.

The text chimed in.

[Hes been listening to 'Five Little Ducks' on loop for three hours. Badly sung. Harlow has lungs of steel.]

[Good thing he has no neighbors. Hed be evicted.]

The next morning, I marched into Sebastians bedroom, duck in tow.

He was asleep. I climbed onto the bed and sat on his chest.

"Wake up. Feed me."

Sebastian didn't open his eyes. He reached out, grabbed me by the collar like a stuffed animal, and tossed me to the other side of the bed.

Then he went back to sleep.

[Harlow, stop! He has morning rage!]

I crawled back. "If you don't get up, my duck is going to poop on your sheets."

Sebastian sat up like hed been tased.

The duck, butt wiggling, walked happily toward him.

Quack.

""

"I want fried eggs. And sausage."

I shouted my order from the door. He rubbed his face, groaning.

"You eat what I make. Or you starve."

I stood on my tiptoes. The text was scrolling fast.

[His mouth says no, but his body says yes. Look, Harlow! Hes getting the sausage!]

I sat at the table, swinging my legs, judging his work. "Beatrice at the orphanage fries them better."

He frowned, ignoring me. Still grumpy.

I dumped a cup of Jell-O onto my eggs. Sebastian looked like hed swallowed a lemon.

"Who taught you to eat like that?"

I ignored him. My food, my rules.

Seconds later, the Jell-O stuck in my throat.

My face went red. Sebastian smirked. "Karma, brat."

I waved my hands. My hand hit the plate.

Crash.

His smirk vanished. "You're actually choking?"

He was up in a flash. He grabbed me from behind, his fist digging into my stomach.

Heimlich maneuver. Cecil taught us this.

The text panicked.

[No way. Day one and shes already dying?]

[Hes actually panicking. He looks more alive now than he has in years.]

[Men are useless with kids.]

Black spots danced in my eyes. I grabbed onto whatever I could find and squeezed. Hard.

The body behind me went rigid. A sharp breath hissed in my ear.

The text froze.

[Is she doing that on purpose? She just ripped open his wrist wound.]

[I can't watch. Hes about to pass out from the pain, but hes still saving her. What a saint