Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"There's no first-aid kit in the guest room."

My flat reply plunged the Mercer family into total silence.

The master suites in the Mercer mansion were fully stocked with luxury amenities.

Yet when they brought their biological daughter home, they shoved her into a cold guest room.

The items in the guest room were pitifully sparse.

Haven even had to use the communal bathroom down the hall to shower.

Not a single person had ever offered to give her a proper bedroom.

Mrs. Mercer looked at my inflamed face, which shared striking similarities with her own features, and felt a sudden wave of panic.

Whenever Gemma suffered the tiniest scratch, the entire household scrambled to comfort her.

Why was this girl so stubborn and silent when she got hurt?

She truly lacked Gemma's charming, lovable nature.

Tristan dug his heels in defensively. "How were we supposed to know it was that bad if you didn't say anything!"

Sharp spasms of pain rippled through my upper abdomen, forcing me to hunch over slightly.

Another wave of metallic blood rose in my throat.

I tightened my grip on my backpack strap and muttered weakly, "I'm heading to school."

Tristan frowned as he watched me leave.

He wondered if it was just his imagination, but Haven's posture looked disturbingly unnatural.

After being found, Haven had been transferred to the elite private academy that Tristan and Gemma attended.

However, Gemma refused to share a car with her, terrified people would discover she wasn't the biological heir.

Haven had walked to school alone every single day.

Over the past six months, Gemma's subtle hints had incited relentless school bullying against her.

That silly girl had endured every ounce of torment in silence.

She probably knew that even if she spoke up, nobody at home would care.

Her family would never believe their sweet Gemma could do anything cruel.

The moment I pulled my textbook from my desk compartment, I saw a large fake cockroach glued to the cover.

A few girls waiting to see me scream quickly covered their smirking lips.

If it were the original Haven, she would have shrunk away and swallowed the insult.

For me, dealing with toxic brats had long become second nature.

I came here just wanting to wait out my death peacefully, but if people kept pushing me, I wasn't some harmless punching bag.

I grabbed the textbook with the cockroach and marched straight toward the smug girl closest to me.

I slammed the heavy book directly into her face.

Before she could even shriek, I dumped out all the books from her desk and swapped mine for her clean copy.

Haven had always been an invisible, timid shadow in this classroom.

Today, I walked in with an angry red burn on my face, already drawing curious whispers.

Now that this quiet nobody had snapped so violently, the entire room went dead silent.

Once the girl recovered from the shock, she lunged at me like a feral cat.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled back, my voice freezing cold. "I won't hold the past against you. But touch me again, and you'll regret it."

I shoved her away and collapsed back onto my desk.

My stomach wasn't just cramping anymore; violent nausea was clawing up my chest.

Humiliated, the girl raised her hand to slap me across the face.

Suddenly, a hand caught her wrist mid-air from the desk behind me.

Micah Brooks glared at her with an arrogant, irritated scowl. "Shut the hell up. You're giving me a headache."

The girl froze instantly the moment she saw Micah.

Micah was the school's notorious troublemaker.

His family held immense power and wealth, making him someone no one dared to cross.

She scurried back to her seat, exchanging knowing, mocking glances with her clique.

I was in too much pain to straighten my spine, cold sweat dripping down my temples as I bit my lip until it bled to suppress the nausea.

The knot in my brow refused to loosen.

Something was wrong.

Clinically speaking, the disease shouldn't have progressed this rapidly.

This was already late-stage agony.

The next second, my body was lifted completely off the ground.

The screech of a chair dragging across the floor made the whole class turn around.

I struggled to break free from Micah's arms, but my strength was utterly gone, leaving me trapped in his solid grip.

The boy was tall and lean, packed with relentless energy.

"Stop thrashing around," he warned.

It seemed like the first time he had ever seen me fight back.

"I thought you were just a scared little mouse who took whatever people threw at you. Guess even a cornered rabbit bites."

As he carried me through the hallway, Micah let out a soft, stunned sigh.

"Why the hell are you so light?"

Before we reached the clinic, Tristan sprinted up and blocked our path with fury in his eyes.

His anger boiled over into venomous sarcasm.

"Haven Mercer, do you have any shame left? School just started, and you're already out here making out with guys!"

"No manners at all. You can't compare to Gemma in any way!"