A metal rod laced with barbs slashed across my palms, tearing through flesh with merciless ease. Another blow followed, then another, each one more brutal than the last. Within moments, my hands were nothing but a bloody ruin.
Carlos’s voice cut through the agony, cold and unyielding.
“Watch her. Without my permission, she is not to get up.”
Carlos cast me a cold, indifferent glance before throwing down his final words and walking away, Tessa’s hand in his grasp.
The midwinter snow arrived without warning, blanketing the ground in an unforgiving frost. Blood from my torn palms froze over, hardening into icy crusts.
I let out a bitter laugh, so even leaving was this difficult.
I didn’t know how long I knelt there. Snow piled on my shoulders, weighing me down like the crushing burden of my fate. The biting cold seeped into my bones, making me shiver uncontrollably.
Then, I heard laughter.
Stephen came running over, holding a lipstick in his hand, bouncing with excitement. His grin stretched wide, his voice filled with cruel amusement.
“It’s freezing, isn’t it? Hahaha, Auntie really had a good idea! Dad is furious. Maybe you’ll freeze to death, you wicked woman.”
Hearing this, what else was left for me to not understand?
I looked at him, my voice quiet.
“Stephen, do you really hate me that much?”
He pouted, crossing his arms.
“Of course! Auntie said you’re a bastard, just like that gigolo father of yours. You love ruining other people’s families! My mom died because of you!”
A window creaked open.
Tessa’s voice rang out, soft and affectionate. “Stephen, come inside. Dinner’s ready.”
“I know, Mommy!”
Stephen darted toward the warmth of the house, but just before disappearing inside, he turned back, his voice dripping with disdain.
“If you know what’s good for you, hurry up and get lost. A vicious woman like you doesn’t deserve to take my mom’s place. Only Auntie, someone as kind as her, does.”
His small figure vanished beyond the door, but his words remained, cutting deeper than any wound.
I thought back to the first time I met him.
Back then, he had been just a tiny baby wrapped in soft swaddling clothes. I held him in my arms, my heart swelling with tenderness.
I had loved him without reason, without hesitation, even though he wasn’t coming from my womb.
That was why, when the Cavendish family decided to send me here, I had agreed.
After all, where else could I go?