hapter 29


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    On this day, the sharp–tongued Natasha became as meek as a little white rabbit, letting people mold and squeeze her without the slightest resistance.


    After more than ten years of dealing with her, Olivia already knew the pattern by heart.


    Sure enough, when Noel jumped in, saying he was strong enough to help, Olivia turned him down. She said, “Boys can be rough.”


    Without a word, Natasha headed upstairs.


    Olivia nced back and yfully winked at her parents, as if to say, See? Nailed it.


    Olivia had said early that morning she would try to find a chance to ease things with Natasha. So Andrew and Madeline naturally assumed she was making an effort to show kindness to her sister.


    The two watched their daughters head upstairs with satisfaction.


    Noel wanted to follow, but Thomas, seeing right through their parents‘ n, stopped him.


    ***


    Jpstairs, Olivia didn’t go to her own room. Instead, she stopped in front of Natasha’s bedroom loor.


    That room had originally been a guest room. After Olivia moved into the rk household, Natasha gave her original room to Olivia.


    All because Olivia said Natasha’s room had a view of the tree in the garden that her own mother had nted by hand.


    Back then, Natasha had been upset, but Olivia had lost her mother, so she let her have it. If it made her sister happy, then so be it.


    And that one concessionsted more than a decade. Olivia’s ambitions had since grown far beyond just the bedroom. <fn9deb> Discover more novels at FιndＮovel</fn9deb>


    “Sorry, Natasha, Olivia said, “my walk–in closet’s too small, and Dad had it expanded, so for now Mom said I could stay in your room. You don’t mind, right?”


    With that, Olivia pushed the door open, only to find no sign of life inside.


    The lighting wasn’t great here, and ever since Olivia moved downstairs next to Thomas, the room had only been used for storage.


    Natasha hadn’t stayed here for years. Madeline used to have the maids clean it daily, but after Olivia took over, she never let anyone in again.


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    The air held faint traces of dust. Olivia waved her hand in front of her nose in distaste and walked over to the bed.


    The sheets were still in ce but already worn, and lying on top was a portrait, about a meter tall.


    Natasha recognized it instantly–it was Olivia’s mother, Emilia.


    The woman’s features were delicate and gentle, her soft smile so lifelike it felt like she was looking right at her. Natasha’s throat tightened, leaving her speechless.


    Olivia’s gaze softened with a nostalgic warmth. Her fingertips brushed the painted cheek where the woman’s smile rested.


    She spoke up. “She was beautiful, wasn’t she? Just as pretty as your mom. Natasha, after all these years, do you even remember what she looked like?”


    Of course Natasha remembered. That was the day that changed her life.


    Emilia had married the wrong man. Compared to Madeline’s life, which was only getting better, it was like one lived in heaven and the other in hell.


    Proud by nature, Emilia had kept her distance from Madeline for a long time.


    Until the abuse in her marriage was discovered, and Madeline and Andrew helped her get divorced. Emilia moved back into her parents‘ home.


    Only after that did Emilia asionally visit the rks, though not often–too much happiness on one side only gnawed at the other like ants in the heart.


    Olivia was two years older than Natasha, and as a child, she had been much like Natasha in her teenage years–quiet, gloomy, always carrying injuries, living in the shadows like a ghost.


    Sometimes Natasha could feel both Emilia and Olivia secretly watching her. She didn’t know what that look meant, only that it was heavy andplicated.


    Back then, Natasha was lively and kindhearted, a child full of sympathy. Holding fresh flowers from the garden, she had offered them to her sad–eyed aunt. “Auntie, if you take these flowers, you’ll be happy?


    That innocent, naive smile stood in stark contrast to the prematurely mature daughter beside her. Emilia’s heart ached.


    Natasha liked her <b>unusually </b>slender aunt. Emilia was always gentle to her, and even with Olivia around, she favored Natasha a bit more.


    Madeline often scolded her, telling her not to spoil Natasha.


    Emilia would just smile. “Natasha’s blessed. She’s here to enjoy life.”


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    On Natasha’s sixth birthday, Emilia arrived early with her daughter. The kids yed together, and Natasha eagerly took Olivia to see her kitten.


    Natasha had found it as a stray, tamed it with patience, and it had grown sweet and obedient. Her parents had even agreed to let her keep it.


    But Olivia didn’t like it. When Natasha wasn’t looking, she kicked it hard, then tried to stab it with a


    small knife.


    Furious, Natasha shoved her cousin away to protect it.


    Olivia wailed loudly, and the adults came running. Natasha immediately told her parents what happened.


    But Olivia lifted her hand, revealing a fresh scratch from the cat. The red mark stood out sharply against her soft skin.


    No one believed Natasha. Olivia had always been well–behaved–she couldn’t possibly hurt a cat.


    As for the kick, they thought it was just a startled reaction to being scratched.


    Soon, Andrew took Olivia to the nearby hospital for a shot. Madeline was angry and a little shaken.


    Stray cats could be wild–today it was Olivia, tomorrow it could be Natasha or the other kids.


    While chatting with Emilia, Madeline mentioned she might have to give the cat away.


    Emilia nced toward Natasha, who was hiding behind the couch, but said nothing.


    After the others left, Emilia crouched down in front of Natasha and whispered that if her parents found the cat, they might kill it for being disobedient.


    If she wanted to protect it, she had to hide it first. Emilia would help her bring it back after her parents cooled off.


    The kitten, injured by Olivia, had already run off. Natasha was worried about it, and terrified the adults would catch and kill it.


    Following her aunt’s directions, Natasha went to look for it. Maybe the cat had been waiting for her -it hadn’t gone far.


    In a small park near the rks‘ home, Natasha found her orange tabby licking its wounds and


    mewing for its owner


    Because her family was so angry, Natasha didn’t dare take it home.


    She sneaked back to find the only adult who had offered to help: Emilia told her to keep the cat hidden and promised to bring medicine for its injuries


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    Natasha waited and waited, but her aunt never came.


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    Then the rain started, soaking her until she shivered. Grass cuts stung her skin, the kitten’s cries grew weaker, and finally Natasha decided to take it home and beg her mother.


    But at the park’s edge, where two paths crossed, Natasha saw her aunt standing there empty- handed, her face blurred by the rain.


    Frightened, Natasha ran toward her, crying. But just before she reached her, the kitten squirmed free, tripping her.


    It all happened too fast. Natasha fell to the roadside, and when she looked up, she saw Emilia struck and thrown by a car–and the kitten crushed beneath its tires.


    Blood—so much blood–mixed with rainwater, spreading everywhere.


    Natasha froze, too numb to even feel grief, before Andrew’s furious p knocked her to the ground.


    He snapped, “Why did you run away from home? Do you know how long your aunt searched for you? You killed her.”


    In her ears were Andrew’s shouts, Olivia and Madeline’s sobs beside Emilia’s body.


    Olivia cried, “Mom, Mom…”


    There was the wail of ambnce and police sirens, the patter of rain on asphalt, the startled cries of birds, even the kitten’s final mew–and somewhere in the wind, Emilia’s fading ‘I’m sorry.


    Finally, Natasha cked out. When she woke again, the world was no longer the same.


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