Chapter 2

My parents were all smiles, telling me they'd brought me home so I could finally live the good life. They admitted they hadn't treated me right before, but said they'd make up for it from now on.

It wasn't until later that I learned the real reason—Grandpa was splitting the inheritance, and they were scared to lose out on their cut, so they made a big show of finding me.

Grandpa thought I'd had it rough, so he left me a bigger share in his will. Ironically, not a dime of it was ever actually spent on me.

My parents had their beloved eldest son and darling youngest daughter—none of their affection ever reached me.

In that house, I was barely able to breathe. All I could do was desperately try to please every single one of them, just wishing they'd consider me even half a family member.

But when it was all said and done, I didn't even count as half a servant in their eyes.

Janessa glared at them, barely holding back her anger. "What are you doing here? It's the holidays—don't you have a home of your own?"

Maybe since she was already gray-haired and retired, clearly no threat to them, my parents' arrogance came rushing back. With clear disgust, they snapped, "Out of our way. We're here for that filthy brat."

I didn't want Pax to see any of this, so I gently sent him back to his room.

Pax looked up at me, worry all over his little face.

I ruffled his hair and smiled at him. "I'll light fireworks with you tomorrow, okay?"

Pax nodded and headed back to his room.

My older brother stood at the gate, eyes blazing with fury. "So this is how low you've sunk, huh? Did you get knocked up the first year after your divorce? Seriously, you never stop messing around, do you? Because you vanished, all the blame fell on our little sister. She's been battling depression, tried to kill herself more than once... and it's all your fault."

Without thinking, I grabbed a wooden ornament and hurled it at him with all my strength.

The ornament smashed against the door, and everyone went dead silent.

He looked utterly shocked, like he'd never seen me stand up for myself before. In his mind, I was nothing but a doormat he could push around however he wanted—but he'd never thought I'd actually snap back.

Dad glared at me, his face stone-cold as he ordered, "On your knees!"

Those words yanked me right back to those days.

The year of the university entrance exam, I'd gone all out and landed a spot at a top school. Because I started a year late, I ended up in the same grade as my little sister.

Her scores were so bad that she didn't even qualify for a regular college.

She was crying her eyes out, threatening to jump off the building, accusing me of getting such good grades just to humiliate her.

My parents were too busy coddling her to even look my way.

That night, Dad ordered me to confess my so-called sins.

I did nothing wrong. Why should I bow my head?

Without another word, he grabbed a stick and snapped my shin right there, then forced me to kneel outside the door the whole night.

A tidal wave of hatred crashed over me. I snatched up a fire poker and swung it at them with everything I had.

They jumped back fast, faces full of shock and disbelief.

The hatred and murderous intent in my eyes was all too real. Instinctively, all three of them edged away, scared I'd swing at them again.

Mom scowled, her tone sharp and annoyed. "What's this all about? Have you really stopped recognizing your own flesh and blood?"

Janessa snorted coldly. "You? Don't make me laugh. You think you deserve to be called her family? Years ago, you all banded together and forced her into a divorce. She had nothing, nowhere to go. If someone hadn't told me, you'd be talking over her grave right now."

Janessa had never said a word about it, but I'd always known.

She wasn't anywhere near retirement age—she took early retirement, just so she could get me out of that hellhole.

Back then, I was standing on the shore, telling myself this was it—one last decision.

If someone called my phone, I'd choose to keep going.

If nobody did, I'd jump and let the ocean take me.

Janessa saved me, just like she always did.

Dad didn't show a hint of guilt—if anything, he just looked even more dismissive.

"I'm not here to rehash any of that pointless old drama," he sneered. "You went off the grid, and now everyone thinks you're dead. Because of that, you basically pushed Rosie right out of Mr. Armstrong's heart with your so-called death. Get yourself back there and let everyone know you're still alive."

He locked eyes with me, cold and threatening, like he wouldn't hesitate to end me if I dared defy him.

But I could hear the real meaning behind his words.

Turns out, in all the years I'd been gone, Rosie was falling apart—so they came running to me, not out of love, but because she couldn't handle it on her own.

Even if the ex-wife was dead and buried, she would still shake up someone's world.

I scoffed, "Who gave you the right to keep telling me to get out? What the hell makes you think you can order me around? You're nothing to me. Get out of my house. Now. Or I swear, I won't be so nice next time."

Mom lunged at me, hand raised to slap me, but Janessa was even faster. She stepped in front of me and slapped Mom right back, hard.

One slap wasn't enough for Janessa—she kept going, slapping Mom again and again, not holding back at all.

Just as Dad started to raise his fist at Janessa, I brought the stick down on his shoulder without hesitation.