Chapter 4
“How could I possibly burn those-”
Hesitation flickered in Jack’s eyes.
Stephanie Roberts, eyes red and swollen, picked up the candle from my
room:
“Big Sister used this to start the fire! Burn me! What did Vito do wrong… How could you–how could you hurt a five–year–old child?”
Mother finally snapped: “Katherine! I absolutely won’t allow anyone to harm my family! Are you LISTENING?”
Jack looked at me coldly, his voice thick with disappointment:
“You take after your father! Not a single word of truth–low, stupid, and wicked!”
“Apologize to Toto!”
Stephanie’s malice in his eyes made my words evaporate.
Seventy times in seven years she’d set me up, and they never took my side.
Never.
Something collapsed abruptly inside me.
When the dam broke, I lunged forward with every ounce of strength.
Jack stepped between Stephanie and her daughter, stunned:
“Katherine? Have you lost your mind!”
Vito crouched down, eyes brimming with malice like her mother’s, yet whimpered:
“Aunt Katherine, I was wrong, please spare me!”
I spotted the yellow duct tape in his pocket.
Suddenly realized who’d killed Qiu–Qiu.
The little dark figure in my heart materialized instantly.
I seized his throat.
Squeezing hard,
Then harder.
Countless hands shoved at me.
Just as I was about to plunge down the stairs, Jack lunged forward.
Like that rooftop seven years ago, he grabbed me tightly.
His voice trembling: “Katherine…”
Pain shot through my arm and abdomen, my teeth chattering, strength draining.
But I just stared at those bony hands.
Before darkness swallowed me, I wanted to pry them off, finger by finger.
That stubborn, fake affection.
J
Made me sick.
When I opened my eyes, my first act was replying to the man who’d waited ten years:
[I agree to marry you. But Grandpa Victor said my chosen husband becomes the Martinez heir. You must leave the underworld business.]
He replied instantly: [For you? Absolutely!]
Watching that row of excited dog emojis, my lips curved unbidden.
Jack suddenly leaned in, “What are you looking at?”
I instantly locked my phone screen.
“Nothing.”
Jack’s face darkened.
After all, I used to have endless desire to share everything with him.
From tiny beautiful sunrises to roadside flowers, I’d snap pictures just to
show him.
But his replies were always half–hearted.
I once believed all men were like this–brief and logical.
Until Stephanie showed me her social media feed.
Even under a hot coffee photo, Jack had left detailed questions:
[Your period isn’t due yet–caught a chill? Wait, I’ll get you medicine]
I laughed.
He was only rational with people he didn’t love.
Just as tension thickened the air, sudden laughter erupted at the doorway.
Stephanie sweetly said, “Vito was wrong about the Sini. I’m here to make it up to you.”
looked up and saw she’d brought all our former classmates from art academy days.
Mr. Martinez always kept up appearances in public.
He chuckled warmly:
“Stephanie thinks pregnancy is a beautiful moment worth preserving. She missed out back then and didn’t want you to have regrets.”
Stephanie beamed:
“Exactly! Maternity photos are so ordinary. I thought we’d have our classmates paint your portrait!”
[ refused without hesitation.
I’m getting rid of this child soon anyway.
What’s the point of preserving memories?
These very classmates–led by Stephanie–had tormented me for
years.
Shoving my head into toilets until I passed out. Kicking me unconscious.
Jack wasn’t unaware, yet he agreed to this apology arrangement.
