Chapter 7
I didn’t dare struggle. For what felt like a long time, I could only manage, my voice choked with terror, “I… I’m sorry.”
I was always at fault. From the moment I was born, everyone had told me so.
Ray and Grandma scolded me.
The villagers, whenever they saw me, woul shake their heads and sigh. “Giving birth to a worthless girl–what a sin!”
Before I turned three, Mom would occasionally stick up for me. But after the incident that happened when I was three, she would only ever look at me with cold, utter loathing.
So I believed it–I must always be wrong. That was why apologizing became a habit.
Even when I didn’t know what exactly I had done wrong.
The pressure of Ethan’s hands around my neck tightened.
The housekeeper, who clearly disliked me too, kept scrubbing the counter as if she hadn’t seen a thing.
I could barely breathe. Everything began to go dark.
Just when I thought I was about to pass out, Ethan finally let go. His eyes were red and swollen as he staggered to his feet.
“You’ll all rot in hell!” he snarled, his voice thick with emotion.
I watched his swaying figure leave the kitchen nd whispered weakly after him, “I’m sorry.‘
The housekeeper gave me a small room on the first floor.
There was nothing inside–just a bare wooden floor. No bed, no blanket, nothing.
She said to me coldly, “The Millers has been brought to ruin because of you people. The floor is all you’re fit for.”
My whole body felt sticky. I thought I could smell the stench clinging to my skin.
I wanted to ask if I could take a shower, if there were old clothes I could change into.
But when I saw her icy face, the words died in my throat.
That night, I curled up in the corner and dozed off. Half–asleep, I felt my forehead burning hot, my mind blazing, my throat sharp with pain.
In the dark, I groped my way up, opened the door, hoping to find a sip of water.
As the door opened, I faintly heard voices coming from the living room–Uncle David’s and Dr.Hayes’s.
Dr. Hayes said gently, “Miss Miller is showing clear signs of post–traumatic stress disorder. Recovery will take time.”
“The important thing is to avoid anything–sights, sounds, or people–that remind her of those years.
”
Uncle David’s voice was low, fierce, and filled with anguish. “She can avoid everything else. But that child…”
He paused, andhis tone became urgent, pleading. “Dr. Hayes, is there a way you could give Laura a diagnosis? A severe psychological disorder?”
There was a long silence. Then Dr. Hayes sighed.
“Are you hoping to use a diagnosis of severe mental illness as grounds to say she lacks the capacity to raise a child…so te girl can be sent to an orphanage?”
Chapter 7
