Chapter 2

After that, I was dragged into court and convicted.

Back when I was a nobody in the orphanage, I couldn't speak, but even when people tried to pin things on me, I still found ways to clear my name.

Now, living with the Wilson family, I finally got my voice back. Yet when it came to my pain, I still couldn't speak up for myself.

I was wrong.

I shouldn't have stuck around with the Wilson family.

When I caught Amy's surprised and slightly disappointed look, I said in a rough voice, "I'll leave the Wilson family. Please don't make things harder for me."

After I got thrown in jail, some of the other inmates made it their mission to torment me.

They'd sneak past the guards and jab needles into me, especially the soles of my feet. One needle was all it took to leave me unable to walk for days.

I fought back, even snitched to the guards, but that only gave them fresh ideas for torture.

The nightmare didn't end until they were finally released, and I was rid of their abuse.

Peter walked over, looking annoyed. He said, "This is your home. Where do you think you're going? Back then, things got out of hand, and we had to make you shoulder the blame. Now that you're out, we'll make it up to you."

Amy quickly added, "We didn't think things through, and you got hurt because of us. But what's done is done. There is no point in clinging to the past. Next week is Yara's engagement party with Liam.

"We'll set you up with someone nice at the party."

"Who would ever marry a woman with a record?" I asked.

Not just the rich, even any normal family wouldn't take in a woman with a record.

My life is ruined.

Amy and Peter shared a glance and stayed silent.

Just then, Yara stormed out of the villa and slapped me hard across the face, her scream echoing through the air.

She snapped, "Quit acting all pure and sweet. If my family hadn't taken you in, you'd still be that pathetic, mute kid no one cared about in the orphanage.

"And let's not forget: you were the one who pushed me to steal those files. If it weren't for you, I never would've done something so dirty. You weren't covering for me; you brought this on yourself."

Her slap landed with full force, and I stumbled back, crashing to the ground.

Amy rushed forward, caught Yara by the arms, and held her back until the struggle ebbed.

Yara threw herself into Amy's arms, instantly switching from fierce to pitiful. She said, "Back then, Anna set the study on fire just to escape, and she wanted us both to go down in flames.

"When the cops came, she jumped out the window and busted her leg. That fire messed me up so bad that I had nightmares every single night, and my nerves were shot. It was all on her. She totally had it coming."

Amy patted Yara's back, trying to calm her down. She said, "Stop overthinking things."

Peter shot me a cold look and sneered, "Since you don't want to be part of the Wilson family anymore, we're ending the adoption. From now on, you won't see a single cent from us. The Wilsons don't owe you a damn thing."

I struggled to my feet, head throbbing, the side of my face still numb from the slap. But weirdly enough, my mind felt razor sharp.

"Fine," I said.

As the word slipped out, I felt a rush of relief, like a weight had finally been lifted off my shoulders.

Amy bit her lip, hesitated for a moment, but ended up saying nothing.

The day I walked out of prison, the Wilsons cut me loose for good. Just like that, I was on my own; nobody left but me.

Before Amy left, she tried to hand me a card. She said, "There's 160 thousand on this. Find a place to stay, get a job, and keep your head down."

I didn't take the card, and I didn't listen to a word she said. I just turned and walked away.

For the first time in ages, I felt truly free.

Honestly, being a drifter wasn't so bad. At least I didn't owe anyone anything.

Left the Wilsons with nothing: flat broke, nowhere to crash.

For that whole month, I holed up under bridges, crashed in the woods, and even spent nights in public restrooms at the park.

One day, the owner of a small diner, Ken Green, noticed me. My mouth was watering as I watched a customer shovel down a plate of hash browns and scrambled eggs. Ken called me over and handed me a plate.

I was too scared to accept it.

"You trying to starve yourself?" Ken asked.

I shook my head.

And in the end, I let myself accept his kindness.

As I dug into that plate of hash browns, I couldn't hold back my tears.

For the past month, I'd been hunting for work. My resume was solid, but with a criminal record, no company would even give me a shot.

I tried for part-time gigs, but with a bum leg and a broken hand, most jobs were too physical. Nobody wanted to hire someone like me.

After I finished eating, Ken slid a bottle of water over to me and asked, "Want a job here?"

My heart leapt. I couldn't believe my luck. I replied without a second thought, "Yes!"

I was ready to tough it out, no matter how hard it got: waiting tables, scrubbing pots in the kitchen, you name it. If there was work to do, I did whatever it took just to hang on to that job.

Then one day, I was lugging a case of beer from the kitchen to the storage room when someone suddenly called out to me.