Ouch! It hurt even more than when I broke my arm! I glanced down and noticed the knife had only pierced a little. Blood seeped through my clothes, but it did not seem like I was going to die right away, as I had thought. The pain was so intense, I struggled to catch my breath. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I wanted to push the knife in deeper, but the agony made me let go.

The knife clattered to the ground.

My father and my brothers, who came running after hearing the noise, had a change of expression when they saw this.

My father snatched the knife off the ground, his eyes red with anger as he slapped me across the face. "Estelle! You're becoming even more lawless! Do you think hurting yourself can get our attention?"

I curled up in pain and raised my head as tears mixed with blood trickled into my mouth. "Dad... You said... to listen to Mom... Mom asked you to take care of me... "

My father's body jerked violently as a look of pain and struggle that I could not understand flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly covered by anger. He seemed to have been hurt by my words, and his voice became even colder. "Yes! I did promise your mom! So, I can't just stand by and watch you grow up to be this evil and willful person who threatens her family with her life! If your mother saw the way you are now, she would be so disappointed!"

He stopped looking at me and shouted at Sean. "Lock her in the underground storage room! No one is allowed to let her out without my permission! Tomorrow is Cynthia's birthday party, and we must make sure she doesn't cause any trouble again!"

It turns out he still remembered my mother's last words. He remembered them, yet he still treated me like this.

Sean walked over expressionlessly and took my uninjured arm.

My wound still ached, so I struggled and cried, "Dad! I'm not threatening you... I just miss Mom... Dad..."

My father turned away and did not look back.

The basement storage room was dark, cold, and cluttered with junk, with only a sliver of light filtering through a small, tall window.

I huddled in the corner and hugged my knees, the cast on my arm and the wound in my chest throbbing.

Darkness crept in like water, cold and heavy. I heard my small sobs echoing in the empty room.

The storage room was dark and cold; I had no idea how long I stayed there.

Outside, it seemed to be getting lively with music, laughter, and footsteps. Cynthia's birthday party must have started. They must be having a lot of fun. No one remembered me in the corner.

I was hungry and thirsty, my wound ached as I leaned against the wall, half-asleep.

Suddenly, I smelled a strange, pungent odor. Then, I saw a red light flashing under the door, and thick smoke billowed in. It seemed there was a fire!

Coughing from the smoke, I cowered in the corner, gripped by fear. The door was locked, trapping me inside.

The flames seemed to be growing larger, and I heard panicked shouts and running sounds outside. I pondered, 'Was I going to be burned to death? Would that... allow me to see Mom?'

I closed my eyes, a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Bang! A loud crash echoed as the storeroom door was violently forced open from the outside.

A tall figure rushed in through the thick smoke. It was my father! He scooped me up from the ground, wrapped me in his coat, and emerged from the flames.

It was chaotic outside as many guests watched in panic.

My father lay me on the grass in the yard as I coughed violently, only feeling a little better after inhaling fresh air.

However, Cynthia's heart-wrenching cries were heard before I could even catch my breath.

Cynthia was also somehow exposed to the smoke, or perhaps frightened. She curled up on the ground. Her small face was red as she breathed rapidly, as if she was about to suffocate.

"Cynthia!" My father's expression changed drastically as he immediately dropped what he was doing and rushed toward her.

All my brothers also gathered around Cynthia. Jacob knelt on the ground, anxiously checking her condition. Axel and Sean helped him with solemn expressions.

My father suddenly turned his head around. The eyes that had once been full of affection for me now only held overwhelming anger and icy disappointment as they stared at me. "Estelle!"

His voice seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, filled with incredulous rage. "It was you who started the fire, wasn't it? Do you hate Cynthia so much that you want to burn her to death in such a vicious way at her birthday party?"

His yelling made me tremble. My throat, which had been choked by smoke, was dry and painful. I could only shake my head desperately. "No... Dad... It wasn't me... I didn't... "

However, my defense was so weak that it sounded more like a sigh.

"Who else could it be but you?" Sean looked up at me, his eyes filled with disgust. "The fire started in the storage room! You were locked up, so you deliberately started it to get attention, didn't you?"

"I didn't..." Tears blurred my vision.

They all surrounded Cynthia. Not a single person believed me.

"Dad, brothers... It really wasn't me... It really wasn't me..." I repeated it in vain.

Cynthia grow more and more distressed, my father's eyes turned completely cold, devoid of any former affection. He solemnly ordered the bodyguards beside him, "Lock her in that abandoned shipping container in the back. No one is to let her out without my order!"

I recognized that shipping container. It sat in the distant corner of the yard, turning into an oven during summer.

Two bodyguards approached with blank expressions and lifted me up to take me away.

As I was tossed into the container, blazing heat immediately surrounded me. The metal box had baked in the sun all day, making it unbearably hot inside.

The door slammed shut, plunging me into darkness and silence.

Darkness, heat, and thirst.

I leaned against the scorching metal wall, feeling my wounds ache even more. This felt worse than a sauna, but surely no one would open the door this time.

I seemed to hear my mother calling me from far away. "Estelle... come to me..."

I forced a smile and used my last bit of strength to gently reply, "Mom... I'm coming..."

A few days later, Cynthia finally pulled through. My father and brothers breathed a sigh of relief.

Just then, Axel suddenly recalled something and asked with a frown, "By the way, where's Estelle? Still locked in the shipping container?"

My father paused, a hint of unease flickering in his face before being quickly replaced by annoyance. "Go check on her. She should have learned her lesson by now!"

Sean grabbed the keys and headed over to the shipping container in the yard, where it had been baking in the sun for days. As he unlocked it and swung open the heavy door, a nauseating smell of decay mingled with intense heat attacked his senses.