My dormmates are my bullies. When they hear that my father owns a factory, they force me to get them part-time jobs there for the summer.

I look down at the wounds they've inflicted on me and smile. They've just served themselves up for slaughter—they've given me the perfect opportunity to get revenge on them.

My father's factory isn't as great as they think—it's known for its strange happenings.

"Melanie, I heard your dad owns a big factory. You should get us summer jobs there."

I trembled as I stared at the group of young women who had cornered me in the restroom. I kept my head down, too scared to respond.

"Hey, I'm talking to you! What, are you deaf?"

One of them, undeniably beautiful, grew impatient with my silence and shoved me hard. The force knocked me off balance, and I fell backward into the filthy toilet bowl. In an instant, I was covered in filth.

The others frowned and covered their noses in disgust.

"Ugh, gross! You're as nasty as you smell," one spat.

"Beth, why do we even need to work at her father's factory? Let's find somewhere else to work during the summer. Just look at her. She doesn't seem like someone from a rich family."

Hearing that, memories of my father's factory came rushing back. Suddenly, I began to shiver uncontrollably.

"But I heard the city's biggest factory belongs to her family," Bethany Reed replied. "The pay is supposedly the best in town, and they even issue internship completion certificates."

As soon as she finished speaking, all eyes turned to me.

Bethany continued, "Prime Works Factory is your family's, right? You'll figure out how to get us in. Once summer break starts, we're heading there. Also, get us cushy positions. You know, the kind where we sit in air-conditioned offices and drink coffee all day."

She was the leader of the group. As she spoke, she lifted my chin with the tip of her shoe. Her red lips curled into a sneer, and her gaze pierced through me, as if I was nothing more than a speck of dust.

"I… You can't work there. I-It's not up to me," I stammered, hoping they'd drop the idea of working at my family's factory.

"What's that supposed to mean? Don't you realize how lucky you are that we'd even want to work at your father's factory? Instead of being grateful, you're trying to stop us?"

Behind Bethany stood Charlotte Lynch. She was the cruelest in the group and the one who bullied me the most.

Right then, she stormed forward and yanked my hair. Then, she slapped me again and again. Before long, my face burned with pain, and blood began trickling down from the corner of my mouth.

"Enough. Let her go," Bethany ordered.

She leaned in close, her lips brushing against my ear as she hissed, "Listen, Melanie Parker. We're not asking for your permission—we're simply telling you how it's going to be.

"The factory belongs to your family, and you're your dad's only daughter. Surely you mean a lot to him? If you can get us in, your life at school could be a lot easier. You wouldn't want to keep suffering, would you?"

Bethany's words lingered, tempting me to escape the bullying.

The memories of the torment I had endured flooded back. A chill ran down my spine without me even realizing it, and I shook my head frantically.

The sight of my reaction brought a satisfied smile to Bethany's face.

"Good. Get us in and make sure we get decent positions. Then, we'll treat you like a friend."

But…

I hesitated, the thought of my family's factory weighing heavily on me.

Charlotte seemed to notice my reluctance. In a flash, she raised her fist, ready to strike again.

I quickly shielded my head—it was a reflex by now.

"I-I'll do it! Please, don't hit me!" My voice cracked, and fear filled my eyes as I looked up at them.

"See? That wasn't so difficult."

With that, Bethany rose and led the others out.

As I watched their retreating figures, I shakily pulled out my phone and dialed the number I knew by heart.

"Hello, Dad?"

In the blink of an eye, summer break had arrived. I had arranged for Bethany and the others to work at my family's factory, just as they had requested.

Looking at the gates before me, I couldn't help but shrink back a little. Even though it belonged to my family, it had been a long time since I was last here.

As for the reason…

I shook my head, unwilling to dwell on it any longer.

"This really is the biggest factory in the city. It looks impressive," one of them commented. "I didn't expect Melanie's family to be so well-off."

"What does it matter if she's rich? She's still our lackey."

Another added, "Hey, what do you think our jobs will be? We've been walking for ages and haven't seen a single employee."

I heard their conversation but didn't respond. Instead, I just kept walking ahead.

"Are you messing with us? We've walked for so long and haven't seen anyone working." Charlotte spoke up first, her eyes full of hostility as she glared at me.

I flinched at her words, lowering my head to avoid their gazes. "T-They're probably on their lunch break," I stammered.

Whenever I lied, my eyes instinctively darted elsewhere. Thankfully, they were unaware of this.

As expected, they didn't press further. I let out a quiet sigh of relief and continued leading the way.

"This factory is weird. What do they even do here? There isn't a single person in sight, yet there's smoke coming out," Charlotte remarked.

Her words made my palms sweat. I licked my dry lips and explained, "We mainly make clothes. There's not much to do, so you guys don't have to worry."

As I spoke, I noticed my father's office ahead. "My dad's office is right there. I'll take you inside," I said.

Just as I reached for the door handle, someone grabbed me from behind. I turned in surprise, only to see Bethany glaring at me.

Her eyes were sharp with warning as she snarled, "You know what to say in front of your dad, right? We're your best friends at school, aren't we?"

She emphasized "friends", which hit me like a punch in the gut. I shuddered and quickly nodded. "O-Of course. We're friends."

Satisfied with my response, Bethany finally let go of my arm and followed me inside.

I opened the door, but the office was pitch-black.

"Dad, these are the friends I mentioned, the ones coming to work here for the summer," I said cautiously.

Before I could introduce them, they pushed past me and crowded into the room.

"Hello, Mr. Parker. We're here for the summer jobs. May I know what the pay is like? Is ten thousand dollars a month okay? Oh, and I'm not really into factory work. Can I get an office job instead?"

"That's right," someone else piped up. "We heard you can issue internship completion certificates. I'd love a job in an air-conditioned office."

As I listened to their bold requests, I shook my head in resignation. Who on earth would talk to their boss like that?

My father, who had been silent until now, cleared his throat and replied, "I've heard about you all from Melanie."

His calm voice immediately stilled the room.

"Why does his voice sound so young?" Bethany asked.

She continued, "Anyway, we're Mel's best friends—the ones who always stand up for her when people bully her. So, you can definitely give us better positions, right?"

Bethany shot me a threatening glance as she spoke.

With no other option, I stepped forward, intent on explaining to my father. However, before I could say anything, he responded, "Alright, I got it."

Then, he addressed me, "Mel, you can leave now. Let me have a word with your friends. Go find your mother."

His tone left no room for argument. So, I swallowed the words on the tip of my tongue.

"Okay," I muttered.

Bethany and the others stared at me, but I ignored them. With that, I rose and prepared to leave.

They were intimidating. Even so, nothing compared to the fear I felt when it came to my father.

The second I was on my feet, the office lights suddenly flickered on. In the next instant, my father's figure came into view.

He was seated in the office chair, wearing a red suit. His long hair cascaded down his waist, with a few loose strands brushing his lips. His youthful features made it hard to believe he had a daughter my age.

Bethany, Charlotte, and the rest fixed their gazes on him. At that sight, I dashed out of the office.

I knew what was coming next.

My father's factory had been around for as long as anyone could remember. It was said that it had existed since some ancient golden age.

Most people dismissed that as a rumor. After all, how could a factory possibly last that long?

But I knew that was the truth.

"Ms. Parker, what made you decide to come back this year? The last time you returned was on Thanksgiving night, wasn't it?"

Suddenly, a woman in a maid's uniform stood beside me. Her long hair fell over her pale face, but her eyes never left mine. Her movements were precise and formal.

"I-I had something I needed to take care of. That's why I came back this year," I mumbled with my head down.

I instinctively covered my arm with my other hand, trying to hide the scars on my skin. However, it was summer, and my clothes were thin. Sadly, there was no way to cover them completely.

"Were the wounds on your arm caused by the people who came with you today?" the woman pressed on, her piercing gaze sending a chill down my spine.

I hesitated for a long moment before muttering, "Yes…"

As soon as the word left my mouth, the temperature dropped. Anxious, I quickly added, "They're not serious. Just some scratches from fooling around."

Yet, no matter how I tried to downplay it, her expression only darkened.

"Those don't look like scratches from playing around. I'll take you to Mrs. Parker now, and you can explain everything to her," she replied curtly.

Before I could respond, the scene before me shifted.

Out of nowhere, a woman wearing a gown appeared. She sat gracefully in a regal armchair and didn't seem the least bit surprised by my arrival.

"Mel, it seems life at school hasn't been easy for you," she stated. "I warned you, didn't I? I told you there was no need to attend school. We brought in the best tutors to homeschool you, but you insisted on going.

"And now look at you—covered in wounds. The sight of them breaks my heart."

A look of sorrow crossed the woman's face. Her eyes brimmed with tears, which soon spilled over.

Seeing her so sad unsettled me.

"Mom, I know I was wrong. But they're just ordinary people. Can you talk to Dad? Please, let them go this time," I pleaded.

Despite everything Bethany and her friends had put me through, I couldn't bear the thought of what my parents might do to them.

"Mel, you're nothing like your father or me. Why didn't you fight back when you were bullied? Do you expect us to step in for you like we did when you were little?" my mother asked.

She added, "You're all grown up now. It's time you learned to handle things on your own."

I snapped my head up at her words. Meeting her tear-filled eyes, I retorted, "Why couldn't you protect me like you used to? Every time they bullied me, I wished you would step in, just like when I was little.

"But why didn't you ever come? You knew what was happening to me, so why didn't you protect me?"

My voice grew louder with each word. By the end, I was shouting with all my strength.

The effort drained me completely. In the next second, I collapsed to the floor, tears flowing silently down my cheeks.

"Mel, your father and I are gone. We can't protect you anymore," my mother whispered.

Her words shattered me, leaving me exposed in a way I hadn't felt in years.

She was right. My parents were gone. In fact, they had passed away many years ago.