Chapter 7 Rather Homeless Than Humiliated

Kaia's unwavering gaze swept over the four Larsons. Benedict, Amethyst, and Wendy averted their eyes, none daring to meet her gaze. Even Samuel, whose face twisted in irritation, wilted under her razor-sharp glare. "Nothing to say? Fine. I'll say it for you. The gown was flawless when Mr. Larson received it. The dashcam footage proves I never laid a hand on it. Yet by the time it reached Wendy, it was ruined. "The culprit is obvious. That's why none of you will check the footage. Because once you do, you can't make me the scapegoat anymore. Am I wrong?" The word "scapegoat" cut through Benedict and Amethyst like a knife, bringing back memories from five years ago. Amethyst was already in tears. "Kaia, it's not what you think. Please let me explain. You and Wendy are both my daughters. How could I ever choose between you?" Amethyst's tears might have shattered Kaia five years ago when she still yearned for a mother's love. But after five years in prison, all they stirred within her was disgust. "Say whatever you want. None of it matters now." With that, Kaia didn't bother so much as to glance at the Larsons before walking away. She turned the corner and came face-to-face with Connor. He stood there in silence, having clearly witnessed everything. Kaia's chest tightened, but she didn't slow down. She kept walking, ignoring him, her resolve unshaken. Each step felt like treading on the shattered pieces of her own heart. All she wanted was to escape from him and this suffocating place. Kaia was just about to pass him when his voice reached her. Familiar, yet distant; gentle but firm. "Kaia, I believe it wasn't you." His words brought no comfort, only a bitter scoff from Kaia. Believe her? What a joke, especially since it came from him. Kaia hesitated for only a second before quickening her pace. Her limp turned her retreat into a clumsy, pitiful escape. Connor felt as though needles were piercing his heart, the pain spreading until he could hardly breathe. He wanted to call her name, but his voice was caught in his throat. Kaia trudged back to the storage room. She lowered herself slowly onto the old folding bed, exhaustion washing over her like a tidal wave. Her eyes were hollow, her disappointment in the Larsons a void swallowing the last remnants of her attachment. The three years she had spent here were like walking on a knife's edge. Every moment was filled with neglect, humiliation, and suffering. It was a nightmare etched so deeply into her heart that she would never let herself fall back into that darkness again. She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and began packing. She glanced around, realizing how few of her things remained in this bare space. All she had were the clothes she'd changed out of. She shoved them into a plastic bag. It was time to go. Kaia rose and reached for the door. Before her fingers brushed the handle, the door swung open from the outside, revealing a woman in her late 50s. The woman's eyes widened in shock before lighting up with unrestrained joy. "Ms. Larson, you're really back?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. Kaia froze for a split second. "Kate?" A storm of conflicting emotions surged through her as she looked at Kate Sinclair. In the entire Larson residence, Kate had been the only one who treated Kaia as the rightful heiress. The rest of the helpers had treated her with icy disdain. To them, Wendy was the true Larson heiress, while Kaia was little more than an outsider. During the sweltering summer, Kaia had broken out in heat rashes from being confined to that stifling storage room. Kate had dipped into her own savings to buy Kaia a fan. When winter's chill left Kaia shivering uncontrollably, it was Kate who brought her an electric blanket. The memories brought an unexpected sting to Kaia's eyes. After her excitement faded, Kate noticed the plastic bag in Kaia's hand. "Ms. Larson, are you leaving?" Kaia opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, unsure what to say. In the end, she simply nodded in silence. Kate's heart ached as she watched her. The words begging Kaia to stay lingered on Kate's tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to say them. She knew all too well how difficult Kaia's life had been at the Larson residence. Kate had seen the cold stares, the grievances, and the injustices Kaia endured. How could she ask Kaia to stay in this living hell? With a resigned sigh, Kate said, "Ms. Larson, I won't stop you, but at least let me tend to your wounds before you go." Kaia shrugged. "They're nothing. I'm used to it by now." The words twisted Kate's heart. How much pain must Kaia have endured to brush off her injuries like that? Anger flared in her chest, but she was just a helper, powerless to change anything. There was nothing she could do against the Larsons' cruelty. Swallowing her sadness, Kate forced a gentle smile. "Ms. Larson, you haven't eaten since you got back. At least let me make you some food before you leave." Kaia refused again. "No." Realizing how cold she sounded, she quickly added, "Leaving early means I'll find a place to stay sooner." The truth was, she just couldn't stand the idea of eating at the Larson residence. She was poor now, her health was failing, and all she had left was her pitiful pride. She'd rather be homeless than endure the Larsons' contempt. Anyone else could treat her like dirt, but not them. After everything, they owed her better. They had no right to treat her like that. "I'm leaving, Kate." Kate couldn't bear to see her leave. She pulled a stack of bills from her pocket and pressed them into Kaia's hands. "Take this for the road. You'll need it to take care of yourself out there." She could no longer hold back her tears as she spoke. Kaia tried to refuse, but Kate was adamant. "You won't survive out there with nothing. You can't just sleep under a bridge." Kaia clenched her jaw, tears streaming silently down her face. Even someone with no obligation to her showed kindness. So why couldn't Benedict, Amethyst, and Samuel do the same?