Chapter 2

They looked at me in surprise as I swung my legs off the bed, my bandaged left arm protesting slightly, and headed for the door.

If their love wasn’t exclusively mine, then I'd make them fill that void with guilt.

When we arrived at the Millers’ place, it was lunchtime.

I used my key to open the door and went in first.

The three of them were sitting there, casually eating steak.

They paused for a second at my sudden entrance, then went back to their meal as if nothing had happened.

"Oh, you're back. Go wash the laundry in the bathroom."

"Mom, I told you Willow always finds a way. See? She got out of the hospital just fine, even without us paying a dime."

"That little tramp! Never home. Who knows how she's making her money? Probably doing something dirty."

I stood rooted to the spot, a look of wide-eyed fear spreading across my face, shrinking back as if terrified.

My adoptive father saw me standing still and his face darkened.

"What are you standing around for? Didn't you hear your mother tell you to do the laundry?"

I nervously raised my bandaged arm slightly, my voice small and trembling.

"I... I just got out of the hospital. My injury isn't healed. I can't handwash. Can I use the washing machine?"

No sooner had I finished than Brenda's sharp voice cut in.

"Does the washing machine run for free? Don't you have another hand?"

"I…"

Seeing I was about to protest again, my adoptive father's infamous temper flared. He slammed his empty plate down, and with Brenda and Kevin's eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction, he started walking toward me.

He raised his hand to strike.

I swiftly crouched down, covering my head, muttering repeatedly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I shouldn't talk back."

"I won't do it again, Dad, please don't hit me. Please don't hit me. I'll go wash the clothes right away, by hand."

As expected, the blow never landed.

Leo, who had followed me in, grabbed Frank's arm and shoved him aside.

My biological parents carefully helped me up, their eyes filled with concern and guilt.

Seeing the unexpected intruders, Brenda quickly got up to steady Frank.

She shrieked, "Who are you people?"

Then, seeing my parents comforting me, she realized what was happening and started screaming at me.

"You little tramp! Bringing strangers here to bully your parents, huh?"

"We should have just drowned you in the river when you were born! You're worse than a stray dog!"

Then came a torrent of insults: "slut," "loose," "no upbringing." My adoptive parents didn't hold back.

I wondered, They don't even know I'm not their biological daughter yet.

Why could they shower their son with endless affection, but subject their daughter to such extreme insults and beatings?

Especially Brenda. She used to be a girl herself.

How could she become the very monster who terrorized the "little girl" she once was?

I used to think she was trapped, forced by some twisted ideology. But later, I realized she was just plain mean, narrow-minded.

She believed her own daughter had to suffer every hardship she herself had endured, and then some.

When I was little, I'd bring home good grades, win awards, still longing for her love and approval. All I got in return was indifference and cold snickers.

From childhood, Brenda was always the first to hurl those cruel words.

Now, I was practically immune to their verbal abuse; I could just tune it out and get on with my chores.

My biological parents, however, looked absolutely horrified, and Leo's fists clenched in pure fury.

Well, well. My little plan worked even better than I expected.

Now, I didn't have to do anything. Just act scared. This feeling of having someone step in front of me for once wasn't bad.

I used to desperately crave it. Now? It was just... optional. Not a necessity for survival anymore.

Besides, this 'love' was mostly calculated, and I knew it would never truly be mine.

There was still Summer, the Sterling heiress they’d raised for eighteen years.

As soon as they heard I wasn't their biological daughter, Brenda started wailing and causing a scene.

Frank, however, shrewdly assessed my biological parents and quickly started negotiating terms.

Leo gently ruffled my hair, his voice soft.

"Willow, go with Mom and pack your things."

"Leave this to me and Dad."

I nodded timidly, and under Evelyn's pained gaze, I went to my room.