“You’ve been spoiled rotten by your mother!”

Stephan’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts. I watched as he rushed over to help Lorene up. Anger boiled inside me and I stepped forward, desperate to tell him the truth.

“Dad, they’re lying to you. They’re only after your money! I heard them said it in—”

But he didn’t even let me finish. With a wave of his hand, he shoved me aside. I stumbled, falling to the floor, glass shards digging into my palms. The sharp pain shot through me and I winced.

Seeing the blood pooling in my hand, my father froze. For a moment, it looked like he was about to reach out to help, but he stopped himself. His face hardened as he spoke, his voice cold. “You brought this on yourself,” he said. “From now on, Lorene is your mother and Cassandra is your sister. If you can’t accept them, don’t bother calling me ‘Dad’!”

My hand throbbed, the glass still lodged in my skin. I clenched my fist, holding back the pain and looked up at the man who had once promised to protect me.

“Then I wish you have a great new life with them, Mr. Murdoch,” I said, my voice steady. The father who loved me had already gone and the daughter who was stood in front of him right now, wouldn’t stay around for long.  The moment I raised to my feet, dizziness washed over me, made sway and limping. Mildred, our long-time housekeeper, rushed over to help, but my father barked at her.

“Stay away from her! Let her get on her feet on her own!”

“If you don’t want to be my daughter anymore, then get out of my house. And don’t think you can take a single thing with you!”

I swallowed down the taste of blood in my mouth and forced a smile at Mildred, signaling that I was okay.

“Nothing in this house is valuable anyway. Think I want to burden myself with trash?”

My father’s face darkened at my words, his expression full of hatred and anger. Ignoring him, I went upstairs to pack my things. When I came back down, Lorene and Cassandra were sitting with my father, their words dripping with fake concern for me, all the while reminding him of my so-called ‘rebellion.’

My eyes landed on the family photo in the living room—the only photo of my mother, father and me together. After a moment of hesitation, I walked over to take it.

That picture was my mother’s favorite. It was the only thing left that mattered to me. Seeing what I was about to do, Lorene quickly stepped forward, pretending to be concerned.

“Valerie, why don’t you just apologize to your father? If your mother were here, she wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

She took the photo and held it up. “Oh, such a lovely picture.”

“Look, Honey,” she turned to my dad swiftly. I lunged forward to grab it, but before I could even touch Lorene, she fell onto the coffee table. She fell on her own.

“What are you doing?!” Cassandra shrieked, rushing to her mother’s side. “She didn’t do anything! Why would you push her?”

My father, who had been silent until now, glared at me, his eyes flicking between Lorene and the photo in my hands.

“I told you, you’re not taking anything from this house. Not even that photo.”

His words made me sick to my gut and I couldn’t wait to leave this house. That thought made me glance at my suitcase and then my father barked an order at Mildred.

“Empty that case out! Every last thing in that suitcase was bought with my money.

Mildred hesitated, but under his watchful gaze, she could only lower her eyes, reluctantly picking up my luggage and carrying it away. In my hand, my mother’s smile shone from the photograph. I stared at my father, my heart growing colder with each passing second.

“This photo was taken by Mom and she printed it with her money,” I said as I tore the photo in two.

“You can keep the other half,” I said quietly, holding it out to him. Seeing that he wasn’t going to take it, I placed the other half on the table in front of him and turned to walk out the door.

Rain poured down heavily, but I didn’t care. I left that house with nothing but half of a torn photograph. As I glanced back through the door, I saw my father standing there, picking up the photo and throwing it straight into the trash.

When I stepped out of the house, I didn’t even have an umbrella with me. The rain soaked me to the bone as I walked aimlessly down the streets. Eventually, I flagged down a taxi, though I couldn’t stop coughing the entire ride. The metallic taste of blood lingered in my mouth, overwhelming me.

For my 18th birthday, my mother had bought me an apartment by the river. That’s where I told the driver to take me. When we arrived at the building, I fumbled through my pockets, searching for money to pay the fare. That’s when I realized that all my bank accounts had been frozen.  I should’ve known. My father must’ve cut my funds off the moment I stepped out of the house, planning for me to learn my lesson the hard way.

“I’m sorry,” I told the driver, panicking. “I can’t pay right now…”

The driver frowned, his patience running thin. “If you can’t pay, I’m calling the cops.”

“Wait, please!” In panic, I dug through my pockets and found fifty bucks. It was all I had left and more than half of it went to the taxi fare. It left me with barely anything.

The cold wind hit me the second I stepped out of the car. Shivering from the cold, I stumbled toward the gate of the apartment complex. I had to ask the security guard to open the gate for me since I had left in such a hurry. However, the guard lowered his hand after asking me for the apartment number and preparing to open the gate. Seeing me shivering in the cold, the guard felt a little sorry for me.

“I’m sorry, Miss Murdoch,” he said, “but the owner of this unit called earlier. They gave strict instructions not to let anyone in.”

Owner? The owner should’ve been my mother. What is he talking about?

“It was my dad, wasn’t it? The one who gave you the call,” I said, my voice shaky. “That apartment was bought by my mother for me. He can’t stop me from entering my own house.”

“Now let me in, or I’m calling your manager!”

Hearing my threat, the guard’s face turned anxious. He hurried to his post to grab an umbrella while explaining to me.

“It’s not that I don’t want to help you, Miss Murdoch. But after your mother’s passing, the apartment went to Mr. Murdoch. So technically, he’s the owner. And, frankly, it was his money that purchased the apartment in the first place, wasn’t it?”

His words trailed off as he noticed the disbelief on my face. I could see the pity in his expression, but all I felt was a bitter laugh bubbling up inside me. Even strangers could see how wrong this situation was, yet it was my own father pulling the strings.

“Please don’t make this hard for me, Miss Murdoch,” he added softly. “I have a family to support. My dad is sick and I just have a baby. I can’t lose—”

I didn’t hear the rest of his words. The world seemed to hum around me, the rain mingling with my tears. I stood there, drenched and alone. Perhaps because he felt sorry for me, he reached out and handed me the umbrella.

Just then, a car pulled up to the gate. It was dark and its headlights shone right into my face, blinding me for a moment. Then I started to get dizzy, either from the light or the rain. I squinted, trying to make out who it was.

A familiar figure stepped out of the car—Hayden Cox. He was the son of one of my mother’s best friends. I remembered my mother joked with Hayden’s mother that they agreed to marry me off to him. Despising the idea, I smeared mud from my pocket onto his back when he hugged me. He freaked out when he saw the mud stain on my hand and his clothes. Before leaving, he shouted, swearing that he wouldn’t hug me ever again. It was supposed to be a joke, but after that incident, the betrothal between us was called off.

“Valerie? Why are you standing here soaking wet? Aren’t you going to come in?” he asked as soon as he realized it was me. “And what happened to your hand? Why is it all bloody?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

I looked down at my hand. I’d forgotten about the cut from the glass shards and now the blood had dried into a dark scab. Hayden’s kindness warmed my heart and for the first time that day, I felt like crying. My tears spilled uncontrollably. He rushed over, wiping them away.

“Hayden, I…” I tried to speak, but a cough racked my body. Blood splattered onto the ground as I collapsed, unable to stop myself from falling. The last thing I saw before my vision blurred was Hayden’s face turning white with fear. His crisp white shirt was speckled with my blood. My vision went dark and Hayden’s panicked voice was the last thing I heard.

“Valerie, stay with me! Don’t close your eyes! Somebody call an ambulance, now!”

As I lay there, slipping in and out of consciousness, I couldn’t help but think, He’s going to hate me again. He’s a clean freak.

Just a week ago, I suddenly coughed up blood while in the bathroom. The image haunted me—it was the same scene I had witnessed when my mother fell ill and eventually passed away. A wave of intense unease rushed over me and I immediately went to the hospital for a check-up.

When the results came back, my worst fears were confirmed.

The doctor, with a regretful look, informed me that my condition was likely genetic, passed down from my mother’s side. She had died of lung cancer as well. But what made things worse was that the blood disorder I had lived with all my life had aggravated the cancer’s progression.

Honestly, I had been feeling off for a while, but I didn’t take it seriously. After my mom’s death, I had developed a fear of doctors, avoiding hospitals at all costs. My father was hardly home anymore and never noticed my pale complexion or how much I was struggling.

“The best course of action would be chemotherapy,” the doctor recommended gently, “but if you choose not to undergo treatment, you might not even have two months left.”

In this world, my father was the only family I had left. I wanted to tell him about my condition, but it happened to be the night of the company’s big celebration party. And after that night, his attitude toward me grew even more distant than before.

As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I thought I heard someone calling my name. When I opened my eyes again, all I could see was white. For a moment, I truly believed I had died.

Hayden was the first person I saw when I woke up. He rushed to help me sit up, concern written all over his face. I smiled at him, trying to reassure him, but his expression suddenly turned serious.

“Why don’t you tell me that you were sick?” he demanded, his eyes wide with shock. Then, as if realizing something, he looked at me, panicked. “You haven’t tell Mr. Murdoch, have you?”

My silence answered his question. Before I could respond, Hayden looked like he had been hit with a bombshell.

“How could you not tell your family about something this serious? I can’t believe you’re still as stubborn as you were back then.” His voice softened as he continued, “Mrs. Murdoch wouldn’t have let this happen if she were still here. Before I could protest, Hayden was already pulling out his phone, determined to call my father. Seeing this, I tried to reach out to stop him, but he stepped away, staying out of reach. My arms and legs felt weak and I couldn’t even manage to get out of bed. All I could do was lie there, helplessly anxious.

“Mr. Murdoch, I have something important to tell you about Valerie. She is dying from—”

“She could die out there for all I care! It has nothing to do with me anymore!”