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Chapter 3
I gave him one last look before disappearing into the bedroom.
The next morning, my adoptive mother burst into the house, stopping me in the foyer.
She dropped to her knees with a thud, her voice quivering.
"Sophia, Oliver's just a child—he's only ten. He needs you."
Her eyes welled up as she clutched my hands.
"Your father and brother count on the Carters to put food on the table. The younger Clark kids still need you. Please, don't be selfish."
I pulled away and looked her straight in the eye.
"All this time, and you still haven't asked how I've managed to survive these ten years?"
She fell silent.
The low rumble of a car engine echoed outside.
Moments later, a tall, elegant woman stepped into the hall, heels clicking across the marble.
Oliver lit up, sprinting into her arms like a puppy finally let off its leash.
"Aunt Victoria! I missed you so much!"
He laced his fingers with hers as they breezed past me like I was invisible.
Perfume clung to the air, mingling with the soft rustle of gossiping servants.
"Poor Miss Sophia," one whispered behind her hand.
"She spent years trying to win over Mr. Carter and his son, and she's not even good enough to be the side piece."
"She said she was leaving yesterday. Guess she panicked once Miss Victoria showed up," another added with a smirk.
Oliver nestled into Victoria's embrace, beaming.
"Daddy's been waiting for you. Let's go find him!"
"I love Aunt Victoria the most. She's so sweet and pretty… not boring and plain like some people."
The words sliced right through me.
I remembered those first bitter months in the North—sick in bed from the cold, servants snickering behind my back, ignoring me when I begged for medicine.
Only little Oliver had stayed by my side then.
"Aunt Sophia, get well soon! You're the prettiest when you teach me to fly kites!"
Now, those sweet memories felt like cruel mockery.
Victoria offered me a polished smile, but her eyes glinted with triumph.
"Kids say the darndest things. Try not to take it personally, Miss Williams."
I bent down and helped my adoptive mother off the floor.
"See? They don't need me."
Victoria Bennett—the Bennetts' second daughter.
She didn't have Isabella Clark's soul, just her smile.
But that was enough to grant her full access to the Carters' hearts—and their home.
My adoptive mother yanked her arm from mine, her face hardening.
"You're really leaving?"
"I'm done being a caged bird," I said, my voice steady.
"I've wasted enough of my youth on a man who never loved me."
Crack!
The slap was fast and sharp, ringing through the foyer.
"You ungrateful brat!" she hissed.
"If I hadn't pulled you out of that river all those years ago, you'd be fish food right now! Even the Clarks' dogs know how to show gratitude better than you!"
She raised her hand again—but this time, I caught her wrist mid-air.
"The Clarks took me in for eight years. I've given them ten in return."
"We're even."
I met her gaze, unflinching.
For ten years, I endured Ethan Carter's cold disdain.
I ran his home like a machine.
I gave Oliver everything I had.
I didn't regret a thing—except losing myself in the process.
She stormed off, seething.
And as she turned the corner, she nearly collided with a tall figure standing silently in the hallway.
Ethan Carter.
His dark, unreadable eyes locked onto mine.