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.

After leaving my mother's room, I followed the woman beside me and soon found the workstations where Bethany and the others had been assigned.

My father had separated them, refusing to let them stay together.

I reached Bethany's workstation first. She had been given the task of sorting clothes. Looking at the piles stacked around her, I silently wished her good luck.

The moment I entered the warehouse, Bethany started complaining. "Melanie Parker, didn't I tell you to get us cushy positions? Look at all these clothes! Do you want me to work myself to death?"

But I tuned out her whining. Instead, I fixed my gaze on her. She had never seen me look at her like this. The intensity of my stare made her uneasy.

"What is wrong with you? Didn't you hear a word I said? Do you think you're special just because I've been nice to you? Let me remind you. You're nothing. Don't act like you're above me!" she snapped.

Having said her piece, Bethany raised her hand and swung it toward my face. But just before it landed, I grabbed her wrist.

I held her hand firmly. Then, I watched as her beautiful face contorted with fury.

"What do you think you're doing? Let go of me, or I'll make you regret it!"

Even at this point, she still hadn't figured out the situation and kept shouting angrily. But soon enough, she fell silent.

"Since you've been given a job, why aren't you doing it?" I asked calmly. Yet, my tone left no room for argument.

As soon as I finished speaking, an invisible force pinned Bethany to a chair. Instantly, the piles of clothes loomed over her.

Only then did she seem to grasp the danger.

"What the hell is going on? Melanie, what's happening?"

At last, a smile crept onto my face as I saw the fear in her eyes. So, she could be afraid, after all.

"Weren't you the ones who wanted to work at my family's factory? I tried to stop you several times, but you insisted on coming," I said slowly.

I added, "When you walk through the factory doors, you've signed a labor contract. If you want me to pay you, you'll have to earn it. You were asking earlier why the factory seemed empty, weren't you?

"Well, the truth is, there are people everywhere. Look around. Don't you see plenty of other workers?"

Bethany's head jerked involuntarily to the side. Right away, her eyes locked onto the bloodied face of the person next to her.

Her terrified scream echoed through the air, but all it did was bring a satisfied smile to my face.

"Get back to work," I ordered. "You need to sort all these clothes today. Otherwise, you'll face serious consequences."

With that, I ignored the pleading look she gave me and turned to leave, carefully shutting the warehouse door behind me.

Next, I needed to check on Charlotte. She had been assigned to the production department.

Poor her. That was the most grueling job in the entire factory.