Chapter 4

The day after Ethan and Stella left, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door to see Jasper's impatient face.

He didn't even look at me properly. He barged past me, bumping my shoulder, and walked right in.

He casually tossed a suitcase into the living room.

With a clatter, he threw a set of car keys at me.

The sharp metal edges hit my cheekbone precisely. It stung painfully.

"Hey, I'm staying in the south-facing room on the second floor. Take my stuff up there."

He gestured toward the suitcase with his chin, his tone commanding.

"Don't touch my things with your dirty hands. Use gloves."

He looked at me like I was garbage that spread disease.

From that day on, my nightmare officially began.

He would come home at midnight covered in mud after partying outside, then throw his limited-edition sneakers at my feet.

"They're dirty. Wash them."

It was winter. The water from the balcony faucet was as cold as ice.

I scrubbed those shoes that cost more than all my clothes combined.

My fingers turned bright red from the cold and nearly lost all feeling.

He leaned against the doorframe watching me the whole time, a malicious smile playing at his lips.

He would violently bang on my bedroom door in the middle of the night, demanding I make him a late-night snack.

But after I finished cooking, he would complain:

"This tastes awful! Like pig slop."

At first, I would argue back. Eventually, I became numb.

I silently cleaned up the mess, telling myself I'd move out once I had the means.

The real breaking point came the day Ms. Smith made her home visit.

Ms. Smith praised me profusely, saying that although I was introverted, my grades were stable and I was a promising student.

I kept my head down, nervously clutching my clothes, but felt a rare warmth in my heart.

Then Jasper came downstairs in a tank top and slippers.

He grabbed an apple from the table, took a bite, and smiled maliciously at my teacher:

"Ms. Smith, you really need to give her a good talk. After all, she's a wild child from an orphanage. My brother's giving her a chance to study, which isn't easy. She shouldn't be getting improper ideas."

The smile on Ms. Smith's face froze instantly.

The home visit ended abruptly.

The next day, rumors about me being an orphan somehow spread throughout school.

My desk was vandalized with drawings. My textbooks were torn. People pointed and whispered about me in the hallways.

That day after school, as soon as I walked in the door, Jasper cornered me in the entryway.

He held a note in his hand—one my deskmate had written asking about a math problem.

But he waved that note in front of my face, his tone both flippant and vicious:

"Oh, can't control yourself already? Hooking up with male classmates now? What, you planning to write him a love letter too?"

"'I love you and want to be the one who holds your hand for life.'"

He deliberately mimicked Stella's tone, humiliating me word by word.

In that instant, all my pent-up emotions exploded like a volcano.

The rational string in my mind finally snapped.

I don't know where the strength came from, but I shoved him aside, spun around, and grabbed the heavy jade sculpture from the entryway table.

With all my strength, I hurled it at his face!

"Shut up!"

I screamed hysterically, tears flooding out.

"Why does everyone keep bullying me! What did I do wrong!"