Chapter 3

The first day was spent in hunger and intermittent heart palpitations.

There was nothing to eat in the storage room, not even water.

My lips were cracked and peeling. I didn't dare to cry out loudly anymore; that would only accelerate the consumption of my already dwindling strength and put more strain on my heart.

I could only curl up, trying to keep my breathing shallow.

In the darkness, my senses became unusually acute.

I could hear the clinking of dishes and forks downstairs, and smell the food.

A pang of pain shot through my stomach. I pressed my abdomen hard, burying my head in my knees.

Grrr...

My stomach growled at an inopportune moment.

I gave a self-deprecating laugh. My body wanted to live more than my heart did.

Memories surfaced uncontrollably.

I was ten that year, Seraphina was twelve, and we both came down with a high fever.

Eleanor stayed by Seraphina's bedside all night, wiping her body with alcohol, repeatedly checking her temperature.

I lay in the next room, my face flushed with fever, and called out, "Eleanor, I don't feel well."

She impatiently poked her head in. "Chloe Miller, how old are you? Can't you let Seraphina get some quiet rest?"

"It's just a fever, isn't it? Drink some hot water, sleep it off, don't be so delicate!" With that, she closed my bedroom door.

I made it through that night on my own.

The next day, Seraphina's fever broke. Because I didn't receive timely care, I developed pneumonia and stayed in the hospital for half a month.

The day I was discharged, I cautiously asked Eleanor, "Eleanor, do you like Seraphina more?"

She was peeling an apple for Seraphina, answering without looking up. "Seraphina is a star, you're... well, you're not. There's no comparison."

"As long as you're obedient and don't cause trouble for Seraphina, that's your greatest value."

It seemed that love and lack thereof were predetermined from the moment of birth.

I snapped out of my memories, and the pain in my heart returned.

I fumbled around, trying to find a more comfortable position to lie down. My fingers brushed against a cold object.

Using the light from the crack under the door, I made it out. It was a painting trophy I won in elementary school, long since discarded here.

My name, Chloe Miller, was engraved on it.

Back then, I also thought I could shine. But then Seraphina started learning piano. She needed a piano, she needed the best teachers.

The family expenses suddenly increased.

Eleanor looked at my easel and paints, frowning. "What's the use of a girl painting these? It won't put food on the table, and it costs money."

"Stop painting from now on. Save the money for Seraphina's tuition."

From that day on, my paintbrushes were broken, my dreams tossed into this storage room, gathering thick dust alongside this trophy.

Late at night, the noise from downstairs finally ended. I heard Richard and Eleanor's footsteps going upstairs.

They passed the storage room door, and I held my breath.

"Richard, do you think... that girl might actually be in trouble?" It was Eleanor's voice, hesitant.

My heart instantly leaped into my throat.

"What trouble could she be in?" Richard's voice sounded weary. "You still don't know her? She's always loved to use these tricks to get our attention. Starve her for a day, and she'll know she was wrong."

"You're right." Eleanor's voice returned to its usual tone. "Just let her stay in there and teach her a lesson. Otherwise, who knows what kind of trouble she'll stir up in the future."

"Alright, let's go to sleep. Tomorrow we still have to go with Seraphina to pick out a dress for the celebration gala."

Their footsteps faded, and my suspended heart finally sank.

I hugged my knees, burying my face, not crying, for my tears had long since dried up.

Suddenly, I heard a sound downstairs. I struggled to crawl to the door, peering through the crack in the floor.

It was Richard.

He walked directly below the storage room and stopped.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Richard..." I managed to squeeze a tiny sound from my throat, pounding on the floor.

He heard it. He stood still, seemingly wrestling with something.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

Then he let out a long sigh and turned away.