Chapter 3

A few days later, with the whole family doting on her, Ella was finally discharged from the hospital.

Charlotte, a top surgical expert, now acted like any anxious mother, personally checking and packing every medicine bottle. Joseph had already parked the car right at the main entrance of the inpatient building, engine still running, as if making his precious daughter walk even one extra step would be a crime.

And my fiancé, Mike, was down on one knee, gently helping Ella slip on her flats, treating her as if she were made of delicate glass.

In the car on the way home, the atmosphere was tense and restless.

Charlotte flipped through the medical records while irritably rubbing her temples: "Lily really has no manners. Ella was in the hospital for so long, and she never showed up once, let alone apologized. When we get home, I'll have to teach her a good lesson."

Joseph, who was driving, glanced at Charlotte in the rearview mirror, his tone ice-cold: "I told you from the start we shouldn't have brought her back. A child raised in the countryside is savage in her bones. Keeping her at home is like having a ticking time bomb—sooner or later, she'll kill someone."

"Teach her a lesson."

Hearing those words, floating in the empty corner of the back seat, something like phantom pain stirred deep in my soul.

Over the past year, Charlotte's favoritism toward Ella had reached an almost pathological level. And her disgust toward me began on my very first day home.

At what should have been a joyful homecoming party, Ella walked toward me carrying hot water, but the next second, her hand secretly pushed me, and then the scalding water spilled all over her.

In that moment, the whole family's hearts broke.

Joseph didn't ask any questions—he just slapped me across the face.

The slap was brutal, rupturing my eardrum, leaving it ringing.

"You're such bad luck! Your very first day back, and you nearly killed your sister!"

And Charlotte, that respected doctor, just coldly helped Ella up, looking at me the way you'd look at medical waste, saying with utter disappointment: "Lily, your wicked heart makes me sick."

Three months ago, over an old necklace, Joseph beat me so badly I was bedridden for three whole days.

That necklace wasn't even valuable—it was the only thing my adoptive mother left me, the most precious thing I had in this world.

Even though Ella had a room full of jewelry, and even the "ordinary gifts" Mike gave her were limited editions, she just had to have mine.

"Lily, this necklace is so special. Can I take a look?" She reached out her hand.

I instinctively protected the necklace—it was my bottom line.

During the struggle, Ella suddenly screamed and fell to the floor, clutching her wrist and crying.

Charlotte rushed in at the sound, and seeing Ella's reddened wrist, her rationality instantly collapsed. While comforting Ella, she screamed at me: "Lily! Ella has already suffered so much because of your existence. She treats you like family, but you treat her like an enemy? What will it take for you to finally stop tearing this family apart?"

"It wasn't me, it was her..."

I tried to explain.

But Ella interrupted me. Her face pale, her voice weak but understanding: "Mom, don't be angry. I don't blame Lily. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have messed with Lily's stuff. I lost my balance—it had nothing to do with her..."

Every time she said "I don't blame Lily," it only confirmed my guilt.

When Joseph came home and saw this scene, without a word, he dragged me into the study. The sound of his belt being pulled off echoed in the empty room.

"You cold-blooded, selfish, jealous thing—you don't deserve to be in our family! Keeping you here is a disgrace to this household!"

I cried and begged him to stop, explaining it was my adoptive mother's keepsake. But the more miserably I cried, the more Joseph thought I was acting, and the harder he hit.

Through the half-open door, I saw Charlotte and Mike standing at the end of the hallway.

They watched coldly, without a trace of sympathy in their eyes, only a kind of determination, as if I were a virus invading this perfect family, and they wouldn't rest until I was completely destroyed.

From that day on, I learned to stay silent.

Whenever Ella shed a tear, endless scolding or beatings awaited me.

I stopped competing with Ella for affection that didn't exist, stopped trying to explain the truth, and stopped hoping to get close to them.

I thought if I just became invisible, I could survive in this house.

But now, it was all over.

The car drove smoothly toward that warm villa, and they were still discussing how to punish their "disobedient" daughter.

What they didn't know was that the person they were talking about "teaching a lesson" was now lying alone on a cold operating table in the hospital.

Her body stiff, unable to defend herself ever again.

This time, when they see me...

Will they still hit me?