Ever since what happened last time, Florence had been acting cautious around me. She probably figured out I wasn’t that easy to mess with. She didn’t stir up trouble anymore, just made a few weird little comments in that passive-aggressive way of hers.

My parents seemed to realize they’d gone too far too. They kept buying me gifts as some kind of apology, like that could fix everything.

Then, about a month later, her birthday party was coming up. Florence tiptoed into my room like she was walking on eggshells.

"I really am sorry about last time," she said softly, like she was rehearsing. "But it wasn’t my fault. Our parents just misunderstood. I’ve been trying to explain everything to them."

She didn’t even wait for me to reply before pulling out a shopping bag. "I got you a dress, just a gift. I hope you’ll wear it to my party. If you do, it’ll make Mom and Dad really happy."

I glanced at the dress. Expensive. Stylish. Exactly the kind of thing I liked. The right size, too. But I knew better. Florence didn’t do anything without a reason.

I grabbed the dress and tugged at it just a little and just like that, the seams split. The whole thing fell apart in my hands like it was made of tissue paper.

Yeah. Imagine showing up to the party in that. What a joke.

Florence’s expression changed fast. "That… wasn’t me. It must’ve been the store clerk or something…"

I tossed the ruined dress back at her and said flatly, "You really don’t get tired of this, do you? Still pulling the same stunts. What? Did you forget how last time ended? Didn’t you feel embarrassed enough?"

She glanced around my room, then gave me this smug little smirk. "You’re just an orphan my parents adopted. You really think you belong here? Now that I’m back, there’s no room left for you."

Honestly, I almost laughed. But before I could say anything, she leaned in close and whispered, "Yeah, I lost last time. But I learned something, our parents still love me more. Last time, you had the security cameras to back you up. But this time? No cameras. Let’s see what you’ve got now."

There was something off about the way she looked at me, like she was holding back something nasty. Before I could even react, she suddenly slapped herself, hard.

"You really think I'm soft? That I'm scared of you? That I gave you that dress out of kindness?" she snapped, her voice shaking. "No. I just wanted to kick you out of the Leclair Family before I even told anyone who I really am."

She kept going, voice rising. "I don't want you to just move out of the manor. I want you erased. I want you gone for good. Give back everything, my parents' love, their money, the clothes, the jewelry, even that perfect fiancé of yours. All of it. I want it all back."

She started hitting herself again, over and over. But her skin was thick and even though it had to hurt, it didn't look like much, just some redness.

I stared at her, unimpressed and pointed at the scissors nearby. "If you're gonna go this far, at least make it look real. No one is gonna buy it without a little blood."

She actually picked them up. Took a few deep breaths, then stabbed the scissors straight into her palm. She trembled from the pain, but apparently, that wasn’t dramatic enough either. She threw herself into the floor-length mirror.

Glass shattered everywhere. Her arms and legs were cut up, her face was red and swollen and she had ripped out chunks of her hair. It was chaos.

And then she made her final move, ran over, grabbed me and rubbed her bloody hands all over my clothes like she was claiming me as part of the scene.

"Mom! Dad! Help! Help me!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

The door burst open as Jada and Wyatt rushed in. I didn’t move. Honestly, I hadn’t stopped Florence on purpose, I wanted to see if they would believe me or not. This was their last shot. I was done giving chances after this.

Jada ran straight to Florence and dropped to her knees, clutching her like she was made of glass. Her eyes filled with tears. "Susanna, what did you do to her?"

I folded my arms and kept my voice calm. "Mom, Dad, it’s not what you think. She did this to herself, just like what happened in the utility room last time."

Florence let out a shaky breath, acting like she barely had the strength to speak. "No... I just came to give her a dress... I wanted to apologize. But she wouldn’t listen. She tore it up... got so angry..."

Wyatt turned to Anna without hesitation. "Call an ambulance. Now."

Then he turned to me, eyes cold. "I can’t believe this, Susanna. Your mother and I gave you everything and this is how you repay us? By hurting your sister?"

Florence gave a small, pitiful smile, like she was trying to hold back tears. “Don’t blame her, please... This is all my fault. I upset her last time and maybe... maybe I deserve it. After all, I might be the biological daughter, but in this house, I’ve always felt like an outsider. Once I recover, I’ll move out. I don’t want to make things harder for anyone."

I stared at her, completely done with her performance. "You’re stirring the pot again. Yeah, you should leave."

Wyatt didn’t hesitate, he slapped me across the face. "What’s wrong with you? Florence has done nothing but try to be good to you. Why are you so bitter?"

I touched my cheek but didn’t flinch. The sting didn’t matter. What hit harder was the realization that the people standing in front of me weren’t my parents anymore. Not since Florence showed up.

Outside, the ambulance siren wailed as it pulled up in front of the house.

Wyatt scooped Florence into his arms and Jada hovered beside them, fussing over every little scrape. Before leaving, Wyatt looked at me one last time. "When I come back, you better be gone."

Anna finally stepped into the room once the coast was clear. Her eyes were full of worry. "Miss, I don’t believe a word she said. I know you’d never do something like that."

I gave her a tired nod. "Yeah. Help me pack."

She didn’t press. She just sighed and got to work. Florence’s birthday party was officially canceled.

A week later, Florence finally came home, leaning on Wyatt and Jada like she had just escaped a warzone. The moment they saw me, their faces stiffened.

Wyatt didn’t even bother hiding his irritation. "It’s been a whole week. Why are you still here? I told you to move out."

Florence glanced at the luggage next to me and furrowed her brow. "Susanna, Mom and Dad didn’t mean it. They were just upset. I'm all better now, so there's really no need for you to be packing up and leaving.

“I'm not that important, if hitting me helps you feel better, I won’t hold it against you. I just hope you don’t let yourself get that worked up again. Anger’s not great for your health.

“Besides, you’ve been their daughter for so long. Just admit you were wrong. If you apologize, they’ll forgive you. That’s how family works, right?"

I gave her a smile, slow and even. "Who said I was leaving?"

That caught her off guard. Her tone turned dry, a little defensive. "Then... what’s all this for? Don’t tell me you’re planning to throw us out instead?"

I tilted my head. "Bingo. These bags? They’re yours. I went ahead and packed for you. You can leave now."

Florence stood there stunned for a second, then snapped, "Why? This is the Leclair Family’s estate! You want me gone, fine, but why are you kicking my parents out too?"

Anna let out a dramatic sigh and said, "Miss Florence, technically this is the Leclair Family’s house… but it's Miss Susanna’s. Not yours. Not Mr. Wyatt’s. Just hers."

And she wasn’t wrong. The manor, the title deed, even the biggest chunk of shares in the Leclair Group, everything was in my name.

That one line from Anna was enough to make all three faces at the door shift at once, like they had just realized they had walked into the wrong house.

Florence looked like she’d been slapped. "That can’t be right."