Chapter 1

When disaster struck our family, I stuck with my parents through the toughest, most grueling days on the farm, and it left me battered and sickly.

After my dad's name was cleared and he was back to being the respected leader everyone looked up to, Kayleigh was the one my parents felt they owed the most.

"Kayleigh, it's all my fault. Back then, when I was sent away, cutting ties with you was the only way I could keep you safe. Can you ever forgive me?" my dad would say.

"Kayleigh, I never wanted to say those cold words before I left. I had no choice, it was the only way. Do you understand?" my mom would plead.

After fifteen years in the countryside, I'd gone from the spoiled daughter of a military commander to a hardened country woman.

Even my fiancé, who once swore he'd wait for me and marry me, ended up falling for Kayleigh instead. She was fair-skinned, pretty, and well-educated.

"Celia, let's call off the engagement. I'm a college grad, and you never even finished high school. We're just not a match," he said.

Next thing I knew, he was asking my parents to marry Kayleigh, and everyone was cheering them on.

At the wedding, I was shoved into the farthest corner, forced to listen to people whispering behind my back all day long.

"Celia, you know, when Dad got hurt back then, I actually got your letter asking for help."

"And it was me who went after Mason on purpose. I made sure he fell for me!" Kayleigh said.

I caused a scene at Kayleigh's wedding, telling my parents the truth, but nobody believed me.

Dad ordered the guards to tie me up and lock me in the storage room.

"Celia, you're being so out of line. Why did you have to make a scene at Kayleigh and Mason's wedding?" Dad snapped.

Mom scolded, "Celia, you've really let me down. A girl should have some self-respect, you know?

"Mason doesn't like you, so you should just call off the engagement.

"Your sister and Mason are in love, so you should be happy for them.

"Don't you get it?"

Kayleigh and my ex-fiancé ended up together as the perfect couple everyone envied, while I was left completely forgotten, locked away in that dark, cramped storage room.

Just to make sure I learned my lesson, they deliberately ignored me for a full seven days.

My body was already ruined from all those years on the farm, and after seven days shut away with nothing but a cup of nasty water and a stale, cold bun each day, how could anyone survive that?

By the afternoon of the seventh day, when the guard finally came to let me out, all he found was me, my lips dark and bruised, blood staining my mouth, my body cold and still.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back before Dad got sent away.

There he was, standing tall in his crisp military uniform, looking sharp and serious as ever, never cracking a smile at home. And there was Mom, gentle and graceful as always.

"What are you spacing out for? Your mom's already made dinner, so come eat," Dad called out.

"Celia, you don't look so good. Are you feeling sick?" Mom asked.

It took me a while to pull myself out of the pain of coughing up blood and the suffocating feeling of not being able to catch a breath.

I pressed my lips together and shook my head, doing my best not to meet my parents' eyes.

I was afraid I couldn't hide the hatred burning deep in my eyes, hatred carved into my bones.

I was the one who stuck by them through the hardest years, so why did they have to treat me this way?

If I hadn't taken on all the grueling farm work for them, how could two aging people have lasted until Dad was finally cleared?

And what did I get for it?

After giving them everything, once they were vindicated, I became the stain they couldn't wait to erase.

How could I not hate them for that?

"Why are you only eating rice and not touching the dishes? Is something wrong with the food today?" Mom asked, her voice gentle and caring.

She picked up some stir-fried veggies with shredded meat using her fork and placed them in my bowl, her tone soft and warm.

"You can't be so fussy, Celia. You're only fifteen, still growing. You need to eat well and have a bit more," she said.

I just mumbled, "Mm."

I replied quietly, keeping my head down, refusing to meet Mom's eyes, and I didn't even touch the food she put in my bowl.

In the quiet room, the sound of Dad slamming his fork down on the table rang out loud and clear. My back instantly tensed, and I went rigid, not moving an inch.

But Dad didn't soften at all. Instead, he snapped at me.

He said, "There are people out there who can't even get enough to eat, and here you are with food and shelter, acting so spoiled. Where did you pick up this bad habit?

"Eat up. If you don't clean your plate, you're not sleeping tonight."

My eyes burned, and before I knew it, tears were pouring down like a dam had burst, soaking into the white rice in front of me.

Mom doted on me, but she never interfered when Dad was disciplining me.

When she saw how hurt I was, she gave Dad a quick glare behind my back, then softly told me, "Eat slowly, don't choke."

I mumbled back, and through my tears, I finished off the food, salty and bitter, just like how I felt inside.

Finally, for that last bit of stir-fried veggies, I steeled myself and stuffed them in, swallowing them whole without even chewing.