Chapter 4
One morning at breakfast, I casually brought up Meagan, the woman who raised me.
I asked, “So, what are you guys going to do about Meagan?”
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The atmosphere at the dining table instantly froze. The Hermans exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions visibly awkward.
Carly immediately looked down and put on that on–the–verge–of–tears look she was so good at.
My father, Samuel, cleared his throat and looked at me with an ingratiating look.
He said, “Well, Elena, that vile woman will get what’s coming to her. It’s beneath our dignity to deal with her.”
My mother, Nora, quickly chimed in, “Yeah, Elena, your father is right. We don’t want that sort of person to tarnish Carly’s…. or damage our family’s reputation.”
Bryce leisurely sipped his milk, staying out of the conversation, but his silence spoke volumes that he clearly agreed with their thoughts.
I arched my eyebrows with an ironic smile. “So, you’re saying we should just let it slide? No legal consequences for her?”
My parents’s faces flushed with embarrassment. Their mouths opened and closed, unable to form a coherent response.
Bryce set down his glass and let out a weary sigh before speaking, his tone tinged with helplessness, “Elena, it’s an open secret that Meagan is Carly’s… biological mother.
“You know that if a biological parent has a criminal record, it could seriously affect their child’s future. You know Carly is about to apply to prestigious universities abroad.
“Of course we want justice for that woman, but not at Carly’s expense. She’s completely innocent in all this. She didn’t even know Meagan existed until we found you.
“And after all, Meagan did raise you for eighteen years. If we go too far, what will people say about the Herman family? That we’re heartless, and that we don’t appreciate Meagan’s effort? You can understand us, can’t you?”
Carly gazed with moist eyes at her family as they stood up for her. My parents gently patted her hand, while Bruce offered at reassuring smile. They presented a heartwarming picture of domestic bliss.
I let out an ill–timed dry laugh, interrupting their touching moment.
I scoffed, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “You call that raising me?”
With their angry eyes fixed on me, I deliberately rolled up both sleeves, revealing arms covered in old scars and fresh burns -crisscrossing lash marks, round scars from cigarette burns, and jagged wounds left by whatever sharp objects.
Nora suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes instantly welling up with tears. For once, it didn’t look like she was faking it.
Even Samuel’s lips quivered, his hand trembling slightly as he gripped the knife. Bryce jerked his head away, as if unable to bear the sight.
Only Carly stood there, her teeth clenched so tightly on her lower lip. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, fingernails digging deep into her palms.
With an impassive face, I rolled up my pant legs to reveal both calves–a shocking crisscross of scars, old and new overlapping in silent testimony to years of suffering.
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Chapter 4
Seeing them dumbstruck, I let a smirk play on my lips as I pulled down my sleeves and pant legs.
Then, turning to leave, I said, “I’m off to school. No need for you to condescend to see me off, Carly.”
Shouldering my well–worn, faded canvas backpack, I went out, but I didn’t turn down the driver’s offer.
Only a fool would pass up a free ride, especially when it was the Herman family footing the bill.
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But thinking back now, I realized it was probably the shocking sight of my scars and the Hermans’s intense reaction that finally made Carly make up her mind.
After all, if she didn’t take some drastic measures, she might never be able to secure her position in that family.
At school, Lucas spotted me and called out loudly in the hallway, unable to contain his excitement.
“Boss, you’re finally back. Our Blazing Wheels just isn’t the same without its heart and soul,” Lucas exclaimed.
I lost count of how many times I’d told him to cut back on those cringy anime, but he just wouldn’t listen. Honestly, I couldn’t be bothered with him anymore.
Most of my classmates had caught wind of my true identity, and the fact that I was Hanora Group’s real heiress left them utterly dumbfounded.
That was unbelievable, actually.
Who wouldn’t prefer the gentle, refined, straight–A fake heiress over the real heiress of Hanora Group–a rebellious punk who rocked out, rode motorcycles, and could throw a punch?
Lucas had gotten used to calling me “Boss“, and for the time being, I couldn’t be bothered to correct him.
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I reached straight into his jacket pocket and fished out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, like I’d done it a hundred times before.
“Sneaking smokes at school again, huh? Think nobody’s gonna keep you in line when I’m not around?” I said to him.
With his usual cheeky grin, Lucas asked, “Boss, how are you settling into your new home? They didn’t give you any trouble, did they?”
I arched my eyebrows and gave him a sidelong glance. “Who in this world do you think could actually give me trouble?”
He scratched his head, his tone sad. “Will you ride with us? Now that you’re with your family, maybe they’ll think guys like us aren’t good enough…”
His voice trailed off, and eventually, he couldn’t even meet my eyes.
I snorted and gave him a light smack on the head.
I retorted, “Hey, what are you thinking? Didn’t we agree to enter the College Mechanical Design Competition together and bring home a big prize to blow everyone away? Are you chickening out already? What’s wrong with us? Who are they to look down on us?”
Lucas immediately perked up, his eyes shining as he puffed out his chest. “We surely don’t chicken out. We’re sticking with you, living a high life, and making our names known everywhere.”
Still, I could see a faint redness around his eyes, even though he tried to play it cool.
I couldn’t help but smile, remembering how Lucas had secretly sold his dad’s prized limited–edition vinyl records- collected over the years–just to buy me a set of imported precision screwdrivers.
When his dad found out, he gave Lucas such a beating that he couldn’t get out of bed for three days.
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Even then, he still limped over to me and shoved the brand–new tools into my hands, his eyes still red but grinning heartily.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and gazed out the window at the students sweating on the field.
I muttered, my voice was barely above a whisper, “I probably won’t stay in that house much longer.”
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Chapter 5
After school, instead of heading straight back to Herman Villa, I rode my souped–up secondhand motorcycle alone to my previous home.
Through the greasy window, I stared at the woman sprawled on the couch–Meagan.
She looked like she’d been drinking again, totally wasted.
I kicked open the rickety wooden door without hesitation. She didn’t even stir. Her face flushed abnormally red, and thunderous snores filled the room.
I headed straight for the corner of the balcony–what used to be my makeshift workshop, pieced together from planks and old tires. Now, it was buried under piles of bottles and junk.
With effort, I dragged aside a nearly–collapsed wardrobe and pried a small metal box, carefully wrapped in oilcloth, from beneath a loose floor tile in the corner.
Inside were a stack of clumsily drawn sketches–motorcycles, robots, and a little girl in a helmet holding hands with two blurry figures. That was me, back when I still imagined what my parents might look like.
Carefully, I slipped the box into my backpack. I took one last look at the dead–drunk woman, swept my eyes over the place that had been my nightmare for eighteen years, and walked away without hesitation.
I rode my motorcycle to the other side of the city and stopped in front of a rundown old neighborhood.
From the window of one apartment, a warm glow spilled out into the night. I could faintly hear a little girl’s babbling attempts at speech, along with the gentle guidance of a teenage boy.
The boy said softly, “Thea, read after me–Stella. It means star, like the stars in the sky.”
“Stella,” Thea repeated.
I stopped my motorcycle and took out an envelope from my backpack–inside was every penny I’d scraped together over the years fixing cars and selling spare parts, along with a note that read “For Thea’s eye treatment“.
Thea Collins was an abandoned baby found years ago by the elderly couple, David Collins and Daisy Collins, who made a living by repairing shoes. Born with a severe eye condition, Thea risked permanent blindness without timely treatment. The Collines barely made ends meet and had always worried about how to pay for her medical bills.
I gently placed the envelope in their worn–out mailbox, then quickly started my motorcycle and disappeared into the night.
As the roar of my engine faded, I thought I heard a child’s puzzled voice behind me. “Gab, what’s that sound outside?”
It was already late at night when I returned to Herman villa.
Nora asked me, her voice laced with habitual displeasure, “Where have you been fooling around until this late hour?”
Just then, Carly promptly reported to our parents that she had once again won the Best Delegate Award at the Model UN competition, bringing honor to the school.
We were both seniors in high school. I was also “number one“-if you counted the school’s disciplinary warning list.
I curled up in the corner of the sofa and watched the undisguised pride and satisfaction on my mother’s face. I remembered something from a long time ago.
People always said that all mothers loved children who got good grades and behaved themselves.
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So, in third grade of elementary school, I pushed myself as hard as I could and got perfect scores for the first and only time in my life. I ran home excitedly and handed my certificate to Meagan.
Back then, I naively thought that if she saw I came in first, she’d stop beating me. Maybe she wouldn’t let me go hungry
anymore.
But in the end, she was never my biological mother.
What greeted me was Meagan’s contorted and furious face. She tore my certificate to shreds, dug her nails into my arm, and spat the most vicious words at me.
“How dare you get first place? A good–for–nothing like you thinks you deserve to be number one? You want to outshine my Carly? Dream on it,” she screamed.
After that, I always made sure to stay at the bottom of the class because that way, Meagan would be happier.
When she was happy, maybe I’d get beaten a little less and get a few more bites to eat.
But her pathetic charade was finally coming to an end.
The night before the results of a major exam were released, Carly could no longer contain herself.
Wearing a silk robe, she blocked me at my bedroom door, her face adorned with that signature, harmless smile.
“Elena, can I… talk to you for a moment?” she asked.
I arched my eyebrow and followed her into her lavishly decorated princess suite–three times the size of mine.
A maid was tidying up her clothes.
By the enormous floor–to–ceiling window, Carly dismissed the maid and spoke with careful caution, “Elena, could you…. promise me one thing?
“It’s about my birth mother, Meagan. Could you not hold her accountable?”
I let out a cold laugh and retorted, “Why?”
She bit her lip, her beautiful eyes welling up with tears, looking heartbreakingly pitiful.
She replied, her voice pleading, “The SAT is coming up, and after that, I have to apply to universities abroad. If anything happens to my birth mother, and if she gets a criminal record, it will definitely affect me. You know how strict those top schools are about family background checks.”
As she spoke, she reached out, trying to grab my arm
I instinctively tried to dodge her touch.
She suddenly seized my wrist. For a split second, I saw determination and ruthlessness in her eyes I’d never seen before. Then, with astonishing force, she launched herself backward toward the floor–to–ceiling window behind her.
The force was so fierce that I couldn’t suppress my shock.
With a deafening crash, the thick safety glass shattered. With a face pale as sheet, Carly plummeted from the second–floor
window.
As her body tumbled out of control, she shot me a fleeting, triumphant smirk–so subtle that it vanished in an instant.
She landed heavily in the carefully manicured rose bushes below. Scarlet blood bloomed across her white dress and the delicate rose petals.
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The gardener, who was trimming the bushes, suddenly let out a piercing scream. The maid who had just been dismissed rushed in at the sound, and when she saw what had happened, she also screamed in terror.
The Hermans rushed out from their rooms into the garden. The maid pointed at me and stammered in a trembling voice, “It… It was Elena. She pushed Carly.
“I think I heard them… arguing about Carly’s birth mother…. And I saw… I saw Elena push Carly down.”
Nora let out a heart–wrenching wail and threw herself beside the unconscious Carly, her eyes brimming with tears. Bryce and the others frantically dialed 911.
After a brief moment of shock, Samuel suddenly spun around and slapped me hard across the face with all his might.
My ears rang from the blow, and blood seeped from the corner of my mouth, but I could still hear his furious, disappointed
roar.
“Elena! You really are that hopeless wild brat! You must carry your venomous foster mother’s blood in your veins. How could a demon like you be a Herman?” he barked.
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