Chapter 2

2.

My hair was a mess. The taste of blood in my mouth made me sick.

I looked at him, unable to believe what I was hearing.

"Why? Seraphina broke my things. Lydia hit me first. Why should I apologize?"

Chester let out a cold laugh. He looked at Barrett with a smirk.

"Dad, you don't even know the half of it. She just called her old man in the country to complain."

"She told him our family is too poor and she wants to go back."

Barrett's expression changed instantly. He looked at me with pure mockery.

"Poor? The Sinclair family is poor? That is the funniest thing I've heard all year!"

His face darkened, and he let out a thunderous roar.

"You hurt Seraphina and you disrespect your elders. You have no shame! Apologize!"

I finally understood everything.

In this house, Seraphina was the crown jewel. I was just the dirt beneath their boots.

"You ignore the truth. You don't deserve to be a father!"

I screamed back with every bit of strength I had left.

"You brat!"

Barrett lost his temper. He grabbed a heavy crystal ashtray from the table and hurled it at my head.

"Thump!"

A sharp pain exploded in my temple. Warm liquid flowed down my face, blurring my vision.

My brain felt like it was exploding. All I could hear were their cruel voices.

"Do you know who we are? Do you know who you are? How dare you act out here?!"

"You won't apologize? Fine! From now on, you live in the servant's quarters."

"You'll do the dirtiest chores. Let's see how long your pride lasts when you're scrubbing toilets!"

He knew I had never worked a day in my life back home. He wanted to break me.

Chester clapped his hands and laughed.

"Dad, that's perfect! She needs to learn her place."

"Yeah! Make her lick our shoes clean first!" Seraphina added, her eyes gleaming with malice.

"Let's see how tough this 'princess' really is!"

Chester grabbed my backpack again and turned it inside out.

This time, an old, faded photograph fluttered out.

My heart stopped.

It was a photo of my father when he was young!

I scrambled to grab it, but Lydia yanked my hair back.

Chester picked up the photo and looked at it with a sneer.

In the photo, my dad wore a simple white shirt. He was sitting in front of a machine that looked incredibly complex.

He was smiling at the camera with focus and pride.

The butler leaned in and gasped quietly. "That machine… it looks like the legendary core from…"

Chester cut him off. He pointed at the photo and laughed loudly.

"Look at this loser! He looks like a factory worker from the 80s!"

"Give it back! That's my father!"

I screamed, my tears mixing with the blood on my face.

That machine was the energy heart of our island. My father designed it himself.

That photo was one of his most prized possessions. It was the proof of his genius.

Lydia snatched the photo and laughed. "A poor worker. There's nothing worth looking at here."

She pulled out a lighter. "Click."

The flame licked the edge of the paper. It swallowed my father's young face.

"No!"

I lunged forward like a madwoman, but the bodyguards held me down.

Lydia tossed the burning photo into the air.

The hot ashes landed on my face and clothes.

I cried out, trying to catch the remains, but I only caught gray dust.

"Dad…"

I curled into a ball on the floor, clutching the ashes and sobbing.

Just then, a man walked in.

I recognized him. He was the family doctor and a famous psychiatrist, Dr. Quinn.

For a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of hope.

I crawled toward him and grabbed the hem of his pants, begging for help.