My face paled as I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails cut into my skin, yet I barely noticed when the blood started to flow. My heart felt numb, a cold emptiness spreading through me.

Frustration and anger surged within me, finally breaking free.

“Dad, Mom, I’m your real daughter!” I cried, my voice trembling. “Eliana is the real monster here! You’re all blinded by her act!”

Eliana looked hurt, tears streaming down her cheeks. Wade, his heart heavy, shouted, “Saige, just be quiet! It’s you who’s been putting on a performance!”

With that, he unfolded the blood-soaked letter Eliana had written earlier, revealing the dark, stark words that leaped off the page like a haunting accusation.

“Everyone, take a look at this! This is the suicide note my sister wrote, using her blood after she cut her wrist!”

“Sister, please let me go!”

“Only someone who has endured such profound sorrow could resort to such a desperate act.”

“Could Eliana really go so far as to sacrifice her life for a performance?”

The audience was utterly captivated.

“I never expected the defendant to look so refined and gentle, yet beneath that facade lies a heart filled with malice!”

“As a big man, I’m shivering from what I’m hearing; her methods are incredibly cruel.”

“It’s no wonder Eliana felt pushed to the brink; I’m not sure I could withstand it either.”

“She even torments her sister, whom she professes to love—what a truly wicked woman!”

“Did you hear? Eliana is not her biological sister; she’s just the plaintiff’s adopted daughter.”

“She probably fears that the adopted daughter will lay claim to the family fortune, trying to drive her to ruin.”

“Some people are simply born with darkness in their hearts; they shouldn’t even exist in this world.”

“If the defendant were a man, I’d swear she was a malevolent creature straight out of a horror story.”

“I support the plaintiff in her quest for justice; she deserves the harshest punishment!”

“I’m with you all the way!”

Everyone turned against me, their glares seething with concealed anger, even the judge and jury.

In the midst of it all sat Garrett, my defense attorney, quietly fiddling with the bead chain on his wrist, his silence almost deafening.

The case was glaringly obvious: I had long tormented my adopted sister, Eliana, exploiting my status as the legitimate child of the Laurier family.

The judge’s expression darkened as he asked if I pleaded guilty.

I offered no denial or protest; I simply acknowledged my guilt.

The judge handed down a sentence of three years in prison, accompanied by a year of probation.

The courtroom erupted in cheers, and I caught a glimpse of my parents, their faces reflecting palpable relief.

Eliana’s eyes brimmed with tears while Wade held her close, his expression etched with pain as he offered quiet comfort.

Just as the judge was about to close the session, Garrett suddenly rose to his feet, proposing an appeal.

The room fell silent in shock, yet the proposal was both reasonable and lawful, leaving the court no choice but to accept it.

Though I had narrowly escaped disaster, a heaviness lingered in my heart, leaving no room for joy.

Garrett was Eliana’s boyfriend, and it was evident he had ulterior motives for his actions.

The trial quickly became a hot topic online, with public opinion overwhelmingly favoring the plaintiff, leaving me the target of relentless online attacks.

When I returned to the small restaurant, the landlady glared at me, her voice sharp. “Get out! I’m through with you!”

She hurled my belongings into the street.

“Saige, I took pity on you when you were homeless. I brought you in to work for me. I fed you and gave you a roof over your head. But to think you could be so cruel!”

She shook her head in disbelief and added, “You’ve bullied your own family, scheming to drive your sister to her end. I must have been blind to take you in. Here’s your wages for the past few days. Now, get as far away from here as you can!”

Tears welled in my eyes, and I didn’t dare to explain further.

No matter how miserable it was, I could only swallow it down.

This world had left no room for me.

As I quietly gathered my scattered clothes from the ground, people pointed and whispered amongst themselves.

“Isn’t that the girl who bullied her sister and faced her parents in court?”

“Yeah, it’s her; the story has already gone viral online.”

“She’s quite pretty, but who would’ve imagined her heart to be more poisonous than a snake’s?”

“Did you know? The most venomous hearts often belong to women.”

“She’s so young; she must just have turned eighteen. How could she commit such acts? Could she be wronged?”

“She can’t be wronged; anyone who has seen the trial video knows otherwise.”

“The things she did to her sister are truly unspeakable.”

“If her biological parents hadn’t been pushed to their limits, they wouldn’t have taken a stand against her.”

“It’s a nightmare; demons live among us.”

“Don’t worry, this demon will be brought to justice; she’ll end up in prison soon enough.”

“Exactly; that’s her rightful place. A life sentence would be best; she shouldn’t be allowed to harm anyone again.”

Garrett called, extending an offer for a place to stay.

I turned him down without a second thought; accepting his kindness felt impossible.

He was Eliana's boyfriend, and who knew what kind of trap he had in store for me?

I looked for a few cheap hotels, but the owners recognized me and firmly told me to leave.

In the end, I had no choice but to find a spot under a bridge to sleep.

That night, a torrential rain poured down, drenching everything in its path.

I curled up in a corner, hugging my knees, and my tears nearly dried up.

When I was five, I had felt this kind of helplessness before.

I had wandered off and found myself lost, calling out for my mother in the street.

That was when a kind-looking middle-aged woman approached me, promising to help me find my family.

Trusting her, I followed, only to be trafficked to a desolate mountain village.

The couple who took me in were elderly and desperately poor.

The food I consumed was nothing more than pig feed, and I slept on a bed harder than stone, wrapped in tattered clothes full of patches.

Each day began before dawn, with my tasks including collecting firewood, herding cows, feeding pigs, washing clothes, and cooking.

Any hint of laziness would result in a beating; their cruelty knew no bounds, often leaving me battered and bruised.

When I turned seventeen, the couple brought me to the village chief’s home.

Delighted by my presence, the chief declared that I would marry his mentally challenged son when I came of age.

I vehemently refused, but my defiance only resulted in a brutal beating.

Just as despair began to swallow me, Mason and Tabitha finally came to my rescue.

Even after more than ten years apart, I recognized my parents instantly.

Tabitha gazed at my frail form, her eyes welling with tears as she pulled me tightly into her embrace.

The scent of her, one I had only dared to revisit in my dreams, overwhelmed me, and I broke down, sobbing.

Mason handed the elderly couple some money and gently took me home.

As we made our way back, Mason recounted the years of heartache and determination that had followed my disappearance.

They had never ceased their search, exhausting every avenue, posting flyers, making TV announcements, scouring the internet, and even hiring private investigators.

Countless resources were spent in the hope of bringing me home. Thankfully, fate smiled upon them, and they finally succeeded.

Tabitha held me close, her grip firm and unyielding, as if afraid I might slip away once more. It was as though she was trying to make up for years of missed embraces for all the love she hadn’t been able to give.

“Saige, do you know? Your brother and sister have been waiting for you to come home all this time,” she said. “When you get back, they’ll welcome you with open arms.”

“Especially Eliana; she dreams of you every night, calling your name.”

I nodded, embracing her tightly, feeling as though I’d finally left hell behind and found my way back to heaven.

But little did I know that lurking beyond this peace was a nightmare waiting to unfold, a nightmare named Eliana.

Lost in these bittersweet memories, I didn’t notice a few rough-looking youths emerge from under the bridge until they were close.

Their menacing stares sent a chill through me, and I took a cautious step back, warily asking, “What do you want?”

The bearded leader sneered, his eyes gleaming with malice. “You're a pretty one. Why don’t you join us for a little fun?”

I fought with all my strength, but their grip overpowered me.

They forced me to the ground, some clawing at my clothes, others tugging at my pants. My pleas fell on deaf ears; my struggles met with heartless laughter.

Just as despair tightened its grip around me, a sudden beam of light cut through the dark, accompanied by the wail of sirens.

The men jolted in panic, scrambling away without a backward glance, leaving me crumpled and shaking beneath the bridge.

The courtroom buzzed with tension on the second day of the trial; not a single seat was left empty. Reporters, with official permission, began live-streaming, and within minutes, the case surged to the top of the trending charts.

Comments flew in by the millions, with countless viewers showing fierce support for Eliana, rallying for justice to be served.

Across the internet, everyone seemed poised for the climax, awaiting the declaration of my guilt.

The plaintiff’s lawyer brought forward evidence from the previous trial. As the crowd absorbed each damning piece, anger simmered to a boil.

Online insults swelled into a relentless storm, piercing through any last shred of hope.

Standing alone in the defendant’s seat, with the crowd’s fury bearing down on me, I finally saw through Garrett’s so-called good intentions.

He believed my punishment was too lenient; he’d ensured this trial would leave me ruined beyond redemption.

Just as the courtroom was descending into chaos, Garrett unexpectedly rose, announcing he had proof of my innocence.

Shock rippled through me, my family, and even Eliana. The plaintiff’s lawyer, wearing a smug smile, leaned back, unshaken.

“Oh?” he said smoothly, “And what evidence would that be?”

Garrett signaled for the video to start. The footage, shot from a subtle angle, appeared to be from a surveillance camera in the villa’s living room.

In it, Eliana could be seen warmly tugging me closer, one hand poised in her pocket. In an unexpected move, she stumbled, her head seeming to strike the wall.

But from this perspective, it was unmistakable—Eliana had forcefully slammed a small red pouch against her own forehead, sending a sudden flow of blood down her face.

As the video ended, the courtroom erupted into chaos. Eliana shot to her feet, her voice shaking with anger as she accused, “That video is digitally altered!”