Chapter 11

I pushed open the bathroom door and turned on the faucet, letting the water fill the tub. I leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face was pale and lifeless, and my eyes, exhausted to the core, refused to close.

I submerged myself in the warm, misty water. My school uniform soaked through and clung tightly to my skin.

As soon as I closed my eyes, I was back in that studio with Richard Shane when I was twelve.

His voice echoed in my ears, smooth and persuasive, while his hand slowly slid up my leg.

“Do you still want to continue lessons? My lessons are expensive, and I heard your father went bankrupt. If you want to keep taking my classes, you’ll need to be a good girl and listen to your teacher.”

“You’ve got real talent in painting, Olivia. It would be such a waste to let your parents’ mistakes ruin your future.”

The studio was cluttered, his hands, his breath—everything about him suffocated me.

I bet Chloe Watson didn’t expect that I’d help her, not just because I needed this body, but because her stepfather, Richard Shane, had once been my teacher. He molested me when I was twelve.

At the time, my family had just gone bankrupt, and I desperately wanted to continue taking his classes. But his lessons were expensive. He took me to his studio and said that if I agreed to play a game with him, he would let me attend his classes for free.

That day in the studio became a lifelong nightmare.

When my dad found out, he tried to kill Richard. He attacked him, but without enough evidence, Richard got away with it. My dad, on the other hand, was sentenced to five years in prison for assault, where he died of a heart attack.

That year, I learned what it meant to lose everything. Relatives distanced themselves, and I ended up in an orphanage.

For years, I lived in misery, while Richard Shane climbed the ladder of fame in the art world, almost being revered as a genius.

Now I realize the truth of the saying: the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Richard Shane raised a criminal just like himself.

The bathroom filled with steam, and through the mist, I saw Ricky Shane walk in.