Chapter 3
Ahead of her came Ethan’s mocking laugh–mocking her clumsy, pathetic, and humiliating fall.
And Ava saw it all.
Sitting on the sofa directly across, she felt a pang of pity but restrained herself from standing to help Harper.
Harper patted the dust from her clothes and rose to her feet. She did not lash out at Ethan for his deliberate act. She seemed immune to the pain, regaining her composure in just three seconds, and even offered an apology. “Sorry.”
Ethan had not expected that reaction. His smirk faltered, and his voice grew heavier. “What a disgrace. Are you coming in, or do you expect me to invite you?”
In Moridise, the only one who still remembered Harper, who still missed her, was Ava.
Walking to her side, Harper kept her head slightly bowed, her lashes low, her tone carrying the same subtle distance she had when speaking to Mason. “Ava?”
Her thin wrist was suddenly enclosed in a pair of warm, broad hands. Ava’s tears fell freely, streaking her gentle face as she pushed aside the hair at Harper’s temple. “Baby girl, how have you lost so much weight?”
Ethan, seated nearby, interjected, “Putting on an act–just so you will feel sorry for her and take her back.”
“Ethan, enough-” Ava’s voice carried a rebuke.
Chapter 3
Harper’s expression was calm, without tears. She had long since run dry of them–on nights when her biological father beat her, when she went hungry and nearly froze to death.
Wiping her tears, Ava said, “It is all right. You are back now. Since your father has passed, and that house in the countryside is too old, you can stay here. I will still treat you as my own daughter, all right?”
“No, Ava, I am not worthy.” Harper flexed her fingers and withdrew her hand. “You have already been kind enough to bring me back. I have never dared to hope for anything more.”
Her words only made Ava cry harder.
This was not her proud, willful girl. Whether she accepted happily or even blamed them for abandoning her for three years, it would have been better than this weak, humble figure before her.
Ava pitied her, but Ethan was unmoved. He rose to his feet, cutting through the emotional scene. “Mom, are you sure you want to take a murderer in as your daughter?”
After being settled into the Walker family, Ava had not touched anything that belonged to Harper.
The furnishings, the ornaments, the style, and the decoration all remained exactly as they had been three years ago.
The room had an open view, and the bedding was soft enough to sink. into–supposedly comfortable. But Harper had a nightmare.
In the dream, a slap came down across her face. A drunken man, swaying. with a bottle in his hand, staggered to the wardrobe and dragged her out.
The bottle smashed against her body.
It hurt. Shards of glass drove into her skin, and the pain was so real it
Chapter 3
jolted her awake.
Sitting up in bed, the darkness in the room was suffocating. She got out of bed, gulping for air as she headed out, desperate for a breath of fresh
air.
Before she even made it downstairs, at the corner of the hallway, she caught a glimpse of light–and heard a mocking laugh.
“These days, she cannot even touch a single strand of your hair.” Ethan was sitting at the bar on the third floor, a glass of liquor in his hand, swirling it slowly. “The family has already arranged a place for her to go. You do not need to worry about her anymore.”
Harper could guess who was on the other end of the call.
Her return must have filled Mason with disgust, enough for him to call Ethan in the middle of the night to confirm her situation. He was overthinking it.
Someone who had been dragged through the mud, shattered to pieces- how could she still dare to long for an untouchable man like him?
Even looking at him again would feel like an extravagant hope, a kind of blasphemy.
She forced a bitter curve at the corner of her lips, the fear from the nightmare fading away.
