Chapter 4
Elena said, “President Whitmore’s car is far too precious. My filthy clothes would have soiled the seats.”
Her distant tone was nothing like the lively girl of the past, and the change made Julian inexplicably irritable.
Brow knitting, he snapped, “You must have done something to anger Victor-that’s why he dumped you halfway!”
“And stop acting all wounded. That year in correction was a lesson; I trust you’ve reformed. Don’t go back to being the vicious, sharp-tongued person you
were.”
Adaline immediately rebuked him, “Julian! She’s your sister! Watch your mouth. Elena, come inside-the cold is brutal.”
Elena nodded and, before Adaline could take her arm, deliberately stepped back and trailed behind the three of them.
Inside, the heating was lavish; Elena could scarcely remember what warmth felt like.
Adaline bustled about, ordering servants to bring tea, draw hot water, and fetch clean clothes.
Her gaze never left Elena. Heart aching, she cupped Elena’s hands and said, “Elena, sit down-”
Before she could finish, Elena jerked her hands away on instinct.
Adaline froze, stunned.
Julian barked, “What’s that about? You come home and immediately put on this pitiful, timid act-Mom can’t even touch you? Are you blaming us?
“Don’t forget this is your own fault. We thought a year of reform would change you, yet you return all pretence and tears, deliberately upsetting Mom! Looks like you’ve learned nothing at all!”
The brother who had once spoiled her boundlessly now made every syllable he uttered feel like a razor-sharp blade slicing into her skin.
She kept her head bowed, never once looking their way; that instinctive aloofness and chill seemed carved into her very bones.
Adaline pressed a trembling hand to her chest and asked, “Elena, are you angry with Mom?”
Elena shook her head and slowly lifted her sleeve. “It hurts too much-the wound is festering,” she whispered.
The slender arm showed almost no intact skin; burns, scratches, and frostbite-old and new-interlaced until the untreated wounds had festered into oozing-sores, a sight that made one’s stomach knot.
Adaline’s eyes flew wide; she sucked in a sharp breath as though her heart were being torn open.
Julian’s brows snapped together; a flash of ache crossed his eyes. This was the sister he had once cradled like porcelain-how could anyone let her be
hurt like this?
Adaline sobbed so hard her voice broke. “Elena, how did you get so many injuries? Did I hurt you just now? I thought you pushed me away because you resented Mom… I’m sorry.”
Tears streamed down her face; Adaline reached out, then froze, her hands hovering helplessly in mid-air, guilt saturating her features.
Elena finally lifted her eyes to meet hers, gaze icy and remote.
It was the first time since her return that she had truly looked at the woman she had called “Mom” for twenty years.
Why is she crying?’ Elena wondered. ‘Is it real heartache, or guilt because she once thrust me forward to take the blame for her own daughter?’
Did she truly not know the abuse I suffered in there?’
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Chapter 4
Tonce told myself maybe the torment wasn’t her doing, yet they never asked, never came.’
If she had visited even once, would she still be blind to the horrors / endured?’
This house where she had lived twenty years now felt strange; every face wore a mask.
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