Chapter 2 Why Didn't They Visit

Kaia knew there was no way out of this situation. Once her closest confidant, Connor was now the one she loathed and the last person she ever wanted to face. Instead of facing Connor, she chose the lesser evil, which was to go with Samuel. At least with Samuel, his hatred for her had always been consistent. On Kaia's first day at the Larson residence, he'd warned her, "Even if we share blood, Wendy's the only little sister I'll ever have. Stay in line. If I catch you bullying her, you'll regret it." By never offering her hope, Samuel spared her deeper disappointment. The emotional toll was at least bearable with him. It was better than being torn apart by someone she had once held dear. The prison had taught her a hard truth—when she was powerless, friendless, and utterly alone, survival meant mitigating the damage, no matter the cost. When the other inmates tormented her, forcing her to choose between a scarred face and brutal slaps, she chose the slaps. When faced with the choice of beating or dropping to her knees, she chose to kneel. When the choice was between drinking from the toilet or barking like a dog, she chose the latter. Kaia once fought back fiercely, but it only led to harsher punishment. In the end, survival meant sacrificing her dignity and submitting without question. She barely survived, even among the most ruthless convicts, by always choosing the lesser of two evils. Kaia walked toward Samuel's black Bentley, brushing past Connor without a hint of recognition, her gaze locked ahead. Her baggy T-shirt grazed Connor's fingers, the fabric hanging so limply it might as well have been draped over a clothes hanger. His hand hung in the air, the stillness around him heavy. All he felt was that cold, ghostly touch brushing against his fingertips. Pain and isolation flashed in his eyes. An unseen force gripped his heart, each beat a dull throb of pain. There was a time when Kaia's eyes followed Connor everywhere, bright with unwavering trust. They had survived the orphanage together and were each other's only solace. Every time he called for her, she'd respond with a smile, saying, "Connor, I'm here." Now, she looked right through him as if he were air, refusing even the slightest acknowledgment. Connor's lips quivered slightly. He was about to speak, but something seemed to lodge in his throat, and no words came. Kaia slipped into the back seat, immediately surrounded by remnants of Wendy. The passenger seat was adorned with a fluffy pink cushion, while the dashboard featured a lineup of adorable pink teddy bears. Wendy's photo hung from the rearview mirror. She looked more mature and captivating than she had five years ago. That glowing happiness felt like a deliberate jab as if Kaia were the fake heiress instead. Kaia had thought she could face it all with detachment, but seeing it firsthand left her aching with the injustice she'd endured. She looked away, her eyes landing on the garment bag at her side. Inside lay a pristine white gown. Even without seeing it fully, the lavish feathered details made it clear it was breathtaking. She absently ran her fingers over the coarse denim of her jeans. Everything in the car made it painfully obvious she didn't belong. Even the bag carrying that gown was worth more than everything she wore. Kaia stared out the car window, watching as the scenery rushed by in a blur. Samuel, who was driving, seized the moment to warn her. "Mom and Dad have missed you terribly these past five years. They cried themselves to sleep night after night, their hair turning gray from grief. "Drop the entitled princess act when we get home. I don't want to catch you scheming against Wendy or playing petty games for attention. "Don't make things harder for them. The Larsons won't mistreat you as long as you behave." Once he finished speaking, silence stretched between them. Samuel's irritation flared as she stayed silent. He shot her a look in the rearview mirror. "Kaia, I'm talking to you. Did you hear me?" At last, Kaia met his gaze and said more than she had since leaving prison. "Under Article 48 of the Crelor Prison Law, inmates are allowed visits from family or legal guardians once a month for 30 minutes to an hour. "I served five years—60 months—which should've accounted for 60 visits. But they never came. Why didn't they visit if they missed me so much? Were they really too busy to spare half an hour a month?" Her voice stayed flat, but every word hit like a dagger, cutting through his lies. A flicker of panic and guilt flashed in Samuel's eyes, and the reprimand he'd been about to deliver died in his throat. His gaze instinctively drifted away from Kaia's calm yet piercing stare. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white with the strain. "I-it's because you're impossible to deal with. Mom and Dad didn't visit because they wanted you to focus on changing your bad behavior. They were doing what's best for you." Best for her? As if forcing her to take the fall for Wendy and suffer through hell in prison was somehow for her own good. What a twisted idea of "good" that was. Kaia was beyond done with this. She didn't want to look at Samuel anymore, so she turned her gaze back to the window. The car soon pulled into the Larson residence garage. Samuel looked pleased. He grabbed the bag from the back seat and then turned to leave quickly. But after only a few steps, he stopped short as if suddenly remembering Kaia. He turned back, embarrassment still flickering across his face. "Get properly dressed and head to the banquet hall." With that, he turned and walked away, not sparing her another glance. Even after five years, Kaia still found this house unfamiliar. She had never felt even the slightest warmth that resembled a home here. In fact, life here had been worse than at the orphanage. She didn't have a private room at the orphanage, but her dormitory faced the sun. Sunlight flooded the space when morning came, filling it with an unexpected warmth. Back then, Kaia loved the smell of sun-warmed blankets. For just a moment, it gave her a comforting illusion of home. But after she finally returned home, she found it lacked the comforting scent of sun-warmed blankets. Instead, it smelled of the musty dampness of a place that hadn't seen sunlight in ages. Kaia opened the door to find a small, windowless room crammed with clutter. The only furnishings were a single folding bed and a battered desk. This storage room would freeze over in the winter and become a furnace in the summer. It had served as her bedroom at the Larson residence for three long years. Samuel had told her to wear something decent as if she'd ever owned anything close to formal wear. Her entire wardrobe consisted of nothing but a high school uniform. Even the T-shirt and jeans she wore now were ones she had bought online with her holiday job earnings, costing 39.90 dollars for the set. Kaia remembered how she'd hoped to get Samuel's approval the first time she wore the new outfit, only to watch his face twist in disapproval. "What are you wearing? Can't you dress a bit more decently, like Wendy? Take that off right now and throw it away. Don't even think about embarrassing the Larsons by wearing that out in public."