Chapter 2

The only bed in the house meant Susan sent William to the sofa, insisting I share the mattress with her.

"I could sleep on the floor," I offered quietly.

William planted his hands on his hips, chiding playfully, "What kind of nonsense is that? My daughter sleeping on the floor? I'd never hear the end of it!"

I pressed my lips together and stayed silent.

Back at the orphanage, we'd all been crammed into bunk beds.

Jenna would complain it was too stuffy with so many bodies, then call a vote to decide who had to sleep in the bathroom.

And every time, it was me.

It had been so long since I'd slept in a real bed—so long I'd almost forgotten the feel of a soft mattress, a clean quilt, the gentle scent of soap on Susan's nightgown.

I lay awake most of the night, tense and disbelieving.

At dawn, while the house was still quiet, I slipped into the kitchen to boil water and start breakfast.

William stumbled out of the bedroom, heading to the toilet. He froze the moment he caught sight of me. "Good heavens, girl, what on earth are you doing up this early?"

"I... I wanted to help with breakfast," I murmured.

Susan hurried over and gently guided me back toward the bedroom.

"You're not here to work yourself ragged, Elowen. Children need their sleep to grow."

Their kindness left me uneasy.

At meals, they watched to make sure I took seconds. They hung my clothes in the sun until they smelled like warmth and light.

Still, it felt like a dream—one I feared would shatter if I blinked.

I tried to be useful, tidying up and speaking carefully, terrified that one wrong move would make them frown and send me back.

One evening at dinner, I rushed to carry the bowls and serve the soup.

My hand slipped; the rim clipped the table, and a splash of broth spread across the white wood.

I froze. My whole body went rigid.

"I'm—I'm sorry, William. I didn't mean to—"

Susan was beside me in an instant. "Oh, sweet girl, don't be frightened! Let me see if you're burned."

Tears pooled in my eyes. "I'll be more careful, I promise—"

William slide a plate of drumstick in front of me.

"Listen here. In this house, spilling a little soup isn't a problem. Even if you broke a dish or tipped over a pot, it wouldn't matter.

"Now eat up—these are especially good today."

I glanced up, half-expecting to see the tight, cruel expression I knew so well.

But there was none. I nodded, tears falling freely.

No one had ever responded to a mistake without shouting or punishment. No one had ever said, "It's okay."

For the first time, I felt like a child who was loved.

On the first day of school, I walked into the classroom wearing the new dress they had bought me.

Jenna stood near the teacher's desk, a glossy pink bag over her shoulder.

She smirked when she saw me. "Well, look who's here—the little country mouse. I heard you're Elowen Lane now?

"Changing your name won't change your luck, you know."

I said nothing and took my seat.

Jenna raised her voice so the whole class could hear.

"This'll be my last semester with all of you. My mother's taking me abroad."

A wave of excited murmurs swept through the room.

"I'm so jealous!"

"Jenna, you're so lucky!"

"Totally the wealthy heiress!"

She gave a coy shrug. "I didn't really want to make a big deal of it.

"But Mom insists I see the world. She says with my looks, I could even become a star someday.

"Some people are just born to be cherished... unlike others."

Her gaze cut toward me. "Those farmers who took you in won't keep you long. They're probably just waiting to marry you off for an engagement gift. You really think they like you?"

I kept my head down, arranging my pencils.

Jenna stepped closer, then suddenly stopped in her tracks. "Wait—hold on, that outfit you're wearing..."

Her voice went up a notch, sounding extra loud and dramatic.

"Hey, everyone, check it out! Isn't her dress the exact same style as mine?"

All eyes instantly turned to me.

"Wait, isn't that the dress Mrs. Grant took Jenna to buy last week?"

"The color's different, but the style is exactly the same!"

Jenna shot me a look of pure disdain. "Seriously? You really think wearing the same dress as me makes you a princess?

"Mine's straight from the boutique, custom-made. Yours looks like it came off a bargain rack."

A bunch of girls swarmed around me, grabbing and yanking at my clothes.

"Let's check out this bargain-bin dress!" one of them jeered.

I tried to fight them off. "Don't touch me..." I pleaded.

But they weren't about to let me go. Jenna's expression turned icy as she yelled, "Strip her dress off! Just looking at her makes me sick!"