Crew Bradley swallowed the sharp words poised on his tongue, opting instead to glance over at me with an unreadable expression. The tension between us was palpable, and his icy command to the driver to speed up echoed in the car's confined space.

I quickly wiped my tears with the back of my hand and huddled into a corner of the seat, striving to become invisible. Outside, the scenery blurred past the window, and my thoughts churned chaotically.

Had Crew intervened, would my grandfather have been spared? Could I have escaped the grasp of a loan shark and this entire ordeal? But life offered no "what ifs."

The car jerked to a stop, and the sudden motion made my forehead tap against the seat back, disturbing the healing scabs. Crew gave me an inadvertent look.

“What happened to your forehead?” he asked.

I covered the spot with my hand, remaining silent and shaking my head. He didn’t press for details, stepping out and heading purposefully toward the Snyder estate, leaving me behind.

Once inside, I hurried upstairs to take a shower. Stripping off my clothes, I removed the glove from my left hand. There were no visible injuries, but my little finger was bent at an odd angle.

I had done this intentionally, breaking it in front of the loan sharks, only then did they laugh and let me eat. My aim was clear: this broken bone would always remind me to be cautious.

After changing into a long Victorian-style dress that concealed every inch, I slipped the glove back on and descended the stairs.

Dinner was served, and my mother spotted me immediately, a mix of disbelief and mild reproach on her face as she gestured for me to join.

“Where have you been all these days without even a call?”

I opened my mouth to respond, emotion rising, but was cut off before I could utter a word.

“Mom, do I look nice?” Kaliyah flitted down the stairs like a butterfly, wearing a Victorian dress I’d never seen before.

Mom's focus shifted instantly, her eyes leaving me to admire Kaliyah. “Stunning,” she praised.

Kaliyah smirked at me, her lips curling playfully. “Elisabeth, why are you all covered up today?”

With her words, everyone turned their gaze towards me. Meeting Kaliyah’s mocking eyes, my heart thudded painfully. Instead of retorting, I swallowed my pride to speak, but Kaliyah looped her arm through Mom’s, her laughter light.

“I got a dress for Elisabeth too, you know.”

Mom nodded approvingly, and Kaliyah turned back to me with mischief in her eyes.

“How about it, Elisabeth? Want to change into it?”

I pressed my lips together, thinking of the bruises hidden beneath my dress, and shook my head. “No, thank you.”

Kaliyah feigned disappointment, her smile waning. “Well, all right then.”

Crew’s expression soured, a silent warning in his gaze, but he held his temper in check, mindful of our surroundings.

Mom eyed my ankle-length dress, her brow furrowing slightly in disapproval. “Kaliyah means well.”

Kaliyah’s features shifted into a picture of hurt innocence, a brittle smile on her lips. “It’s okay, Mom. Elisabeth has every right to dislike me.”

Instead of challenging Mom or exposing Kaliyah’s insincere act, I paused briefly before offering a noncommittal response. “Thanks, Kaliyah.”

Mom was startled by my tone, while Crew seemed surprised, a flicker of what might be approval in his eyes.

At dinner, Mom piled pulled pork and dinner rolls onto my plate. Contrary to my usual defiance, I accepted with lowered eyes, murmuring quiet thanks. She nearly checked my temperature, only to find me fine, sighing with cautious relief as she returned a credit card to me, the one she’d previously confiscated.

“Elisabeth, we were worried sick when you left. We won’t hold you back anymore. Here's your card; your dad added some money.”

I clutched the card before letting it slip away. It felt like too little, too late.

Across the table, Kaliyah gripped her fork tightly, her eyes drilling into me until our gazes locked, then she swapped her scowl for a syrupy smile. “Crew, you haven’t given Elisabeth her Thanksgiving present.”

Leaning towards Crew, the necklace at her collarbone caught the light and my attention. It was the same one from the auction, where Crew promised it as my reward for good behavior. Yet there it was, adorning Kaliyah's neck.

Crew glanced at me, explaining, “It suits Kaliyah better, so…”

So he’d given it to her.

I lowered my eyes and murmured, “It’s okay, Crew. Whatever you think.”

No need for explanations. I knew he couldn’t stand me.

After cleaning up, I rose and said, “I’m done. Have a good meal, Crew, Mom.”

Predictably, Crew’s expression was one of surprise, tinted with satisfaction.

On the second-floor landing, I crossed paths with Crew. He was leaning against the wall, flicking a lighter. As he saw me, exhaling a smoky ring, I paused. This time, I didn’t rush toward him. He raised an eyebrow, seemingly uncomfortable yet oddly satisfied.

“Elisabeth, you’ve learned your lesson.”

Crew pocketed the lighter, stepping closer. The smoke swirled around us, and I instinctively recoiled, making him halt.

“About that necklace for Kaliyah, I can give you something else, as a reward for behaving.” He suggested.

Perhaps expecting me to ask for something extravagant, he added, “It has to be jewelry or something small. Don’t expect anything grand.”

I lifted my head to study his face, looking for remnants of who he used to be.

The first time I met Crew was at a lavish party several years ago, where other socialites ridiculed me. Back then, I lived with my grandfather in a small town, and he was my only companion. He didn’t get the fashion trends among young women, and since my tuition had drained most of his savings, I never asked for anything extra. I wore the colorful but budget-friendly clothes he bought me with gratitude.

Grandfather didn’t quite get why jeans were so popular; sometimes, he even sewed clothes for me himself, insisting that bright colors were best for lively girls.

When the Snyder family took me back in, my fashion sense hadn’t quite caught up, and I felt awkwardly out of place.

Mom sent Kaliyah to guide me, but she was elusive, leaving me to figure things out on my own. That led to the ridicule.

Back then, I was insecure and didn’t know how to stand up for myself. It was Crew who dispersed them, his words sharp enough to nearly bring them to tears.

He spoke to me sincerely then.

“Why are you so shy? Don’t be scared. If someone bullies you, bully them back. Hit them if you have to.”

“What if they’re afraid of me and don’t want to be my friend?” I asked.

“Do you want to be bullied, or would you rather they’re too scared to mess with you? Who cares if you have no friends? I’ll be your friend.”

I held onto those words for more than five years, but eventually, Crew publicly denounced me, calling me a bully.

But they were the ones who started it.

The sharp angles of Crew’s face no longer showed the kindness and protectiveness of those early days. All that remained was disdain and impatience. He stood over me, urging.

“Have you thought about it? Don’t be greedy.”

With my hands clasped behind my back, I used my good right hand to rub the deformed pinky of my left, the dull ache a constant reminder of what I endured because of him.

In my desperation, I had blurted out my identity, even sobbing Crew’s number to the loan sharks—a number I'd memorized—only to be shattered by his response.

“I don’t know any Elisabeth Snyder. The Snyder family’s daughter is Kaliyah Knight.”

Not only that, he riled up the lenders, provoking their wrath, which they then unleashed on me. They forced me to slap my own face until it was swollen beyond recognition, pain shooting even into my gums.

Eating became an ordeal; even dinner rolls were too hard. They stomped on them, filthy and dark, and shoved them into my mouth.

The memory alone made my stomach churn again.

Suppressing the urge to retch, I pressed hard on my dislocated pinky to stay grounded.

“Sorry, I don’t want anything.”

Crew’s brow furrowed, suspicion sharpening his gaze, laced with a silent warning.

“Don’t come back to me later, causing trouble. I don’t have the patience for that.”

I nodded faintly, eager for him to leave. “I won’t.”

He didn’t push further—maybe he never intended to give me anything anyway.

“Make sure you don’t.”

He walked away but paused, his back turned to me, voice heavy.

“That necklace was meant for Kaliyah. Don’t go bullying her again.”

Before I could respond, he was gone, striding decisively away.