Chapter 1

"I've made up my mind, Adrian."

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the pale, frail reflection of myself.

It turns out that making one of the most important decisions in life wasn't as difficult as I had imagined.

"Grace… will you accept my proposal?"

Adrian Cooper's deep voice came through the phone.

My heart suddenly felt a pang of bittersweet emotion.

As tears quietly slipped down my cheeks, I nodded lightly. "Yes, Adrian, I will."

"Grace, I'm so happy."

"Did you know? I've been waiting for this day ever since we were in college."

Unknowingly, a faint smile had already formed on the lips of the woman in the mirror.

"Adrian, give me half a month. Let me take care of things here first."

"Of course, Grace. I'll be waiting for you."

The call had barely ended when my bedroom door was abruptly pushed open from the outside.

"Grace," my father cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Your sister hasn't been feeling well. Since your room gets more sunlight, why don't the two of you switch rooms for a few days?"

I didn't respond immediately. My gaze shifted to my stepmother and stepsister, Helen Rowen, standing behind him.

My stepmother quickly interjected, "Oh, Mr. Winston, there's no need to trouble the eldest daughter."

Helen chimed in, looking pitiful, "Yes, Dad, I'm fine. Don't upset my sister because of me."

"What trouble? You're my daughter too," my father said firmly before turning to me with a stern expression.

"Grace, you're the elder sister. Be understanding."

I stared blankly at my father.

I thought I would feel heartbroken, that I might cry for this man who loved his stepdaughter more than his biological daughter.

But not a single tear fell.

Instead, I smiled and nodded at them.

"Alright, I'll switch rooms with her."

After all, in just half a month, I would leave this place forever.

Which room I stayed in no longer mattered.

My father seemed pleased with my compliance.

My stepmother was also smiling in satisfaction.

After they left, Helen remained in the room.

"Grace, let me help you pack," she said sweetly, standing obediently before me.

As her eyes swept across the entire room, a trace of undisguised glee flickered within them.

"I didn't expect Dad would actually agree to let us switch rooms."

"Grace, are you mad at me?" she asked innocently.

"After all, I've just taken Paul from you, and now I've taken the bedroom you've lived in for ten years."

I didn't want to engage with her, so I turned to grab my suitcase.

Suddenly, Helen let out a dramatic cry and fell hard to the ground.

"Grace…"

Her arm hit the corner of the desk as she fell, leaving a large bruise that spread quickly.

"What are you doing, Grace!"

Paul had come upstairs without me noticing.

He arrived just in time to see Helen fall.

His expression darkened as he strode over, carefully scooping Helen into his arms.

"Paul, I'm fine. Grace didn't mean it," Helen said, tears streaming down her face. Yet she forced a smile, pretending to brush off the pain.

"It doesn't hurt, Paul," she added softly.

"It's already bruised, and you're saying it doesn't hurt?"

Paul's gaze lingered on the injury on her pale arm, full of concern.

But when he turned to me, his eyes were icy, cold as frost.

"Grace, if you're upset, take it out on me."

"Don't hurt Helen. She's already had it hard enough."

"Not like you, born into privilege as a pampered young lady, never having suffered a day in your life."

I had thought my emotions wouldn't be swayed by him anymore.

I had believed I would never shed another tear for Paul.

But in the end, I was just an ordinary girl.

I wasn't made of steel, nor did I have an indestructible heart.

The boy I grew up with, the man I loved for three years…

In a matter of days, he had fallen for someone younger and prettier.

To him, I was now a venomous and cruel monster.

I didn't want to cry. I even wanted to laugh.

But my tear glands were already throbbing with pain.

"Paul, we've known each other for so many years. Don't you know what kind of person I am?"

Paul frowned slightly, his gaze falling on my face. For a moment, his expression seemed to waver.

Helen suddenly started crying. "Paul, don't argue with Grace because of me."

"I'm fine. If Grace is angry with me, she has every right to be…"

Her sobs were soft, like she was utterly wronged.

Paul's gaze on me turned completely cold.

"You're jealous that I love Helen."

"Jealous that I treat her well."

"Jealous that everyone adores her."

"Grace, you're not the person you used to be."

"You've become twisted now, haven't you?"

With that, he carried Helen in his arms and walked away.

I watched their retreating figures.

Suddenly, I realized that my tears had dried without me noticing.

Chapter 2

Maybe that was for the best.

I had already cried too many times because of Paul in the past few days.

From now on, I probably wouldn't shed another tear for him or let him break my heart again.

That evening, the mutual friends' group chat became lively all of a sudden.

Paul sent a message:

"Suddenly feel like getting married. What should I do?"

The group chat instantly exploded.

"Paul, are you finally going to marry Grace?"

"Time to start calling her sister-in-law, huh?"

Everyone began tagging me in their messages, "Congrats, sis-in-law! Are you going to give us big red envelopes?"

"Paul, when are you inviting us to your wedding with Grace?"

The chat was a chaotic mess, with messages flooding in one after another.

I was about to send a message to clarify.

I wasn't their sister-in-law.

Paul wasn't planning to marry me.

But Paul was faster than me.

"What nonsense are you all talking about?"

"I never said I wanted to marry Grace."

Then, he added Helen to the group.

Tagging everyone, he wrote, "Take a good look, this is your real sister-in-law."

The noisy group chat fell silent.

For a long while, no one said anything.

Paul, "Why is everyone so quiet?"

"Say hello to your sister-in-law."

Gradually, people started sending sparse greetings to Helen.

I thought about it for a moment and decided to send one last message.

"Congratulations. Wishing you a lifetime of happiness."

After that, I left the group chat without looking back.

I had just left the group chat when Paul's call came through.

"Grace, come over right now."

"Where to?"

"You know where. The usual place."

"What's this about?"

"To apologize to Helen."

"Why should I apologize?"

"You suddenly left the group chat. Do you know what the others might think of her because of that?"

Paul's tone was harsh, almost domineering.

"I don't want anyone slandering Helen."

"It's me who loves her. I want to give her a rightful place."

"She's innocent and shouldn't bear the label of a homewrecker because of your recklessness and impulsiveness."

Though I had long stopped letting his words or actions affect me, a surge of anger rose in my chest at that moment, leaving it tight and painful.

My fingers holding the phone trembled slightly.

When I finally spoke, my voice was shaking too.

"Paul, you can't treat people like this."

"How dare you bully me this way?"

"You're the one who was unfaithful. I did nothing. I even congratulated you two. Isn't that enough?"

I bit back my tears, refusing to let them fall, though my voice betrayed the lump in my throat.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.

"Grace."

"I'll let this go this time."

"But I want you to remember, Helen is innocent."

"Don't take your anger out on her or hurt her."

The call ended.

I sat down on the carpet, my entire body trembling.

On the bedside table, my mother's memorial photo rested. She was gazing at me with her usual gentle and loving expression.

Suddenly, the tears I had held back came pouring out as I threw myself over the frame, holding it tightly.

Through the cold glass, I pressed my face against hers.

My tears streamed down relentlessly, and it felt as though the mother in the photo was grieving with me for her daughter's pain.

I didn't want to cry anymore. I didn't want my mother to feel sorrow for me, even in the afterlife.

Once her death anniversary had passed, I would take the keepsakes she had left me and leave Capital City forever.

I would never return to this place again.

Helen had moved into my room.

As for me, I didn't move into hers.

Instead, I found a random guest room and settled there for the time being.

The bedding the servants had prepared for me was cold and damp.

I didn't even bother fixing it and just lay down fully clothed.

After all, there were only a few days left.

I just had to endure, and then everything would finally be over.

The next morning, as I walked downstairs, I saw a scene that made my blood boil.

In the side hall, where my mother's memorial photo and offerings were placed, chaos reigned.

Her picture had been thrown to the ground, the frame shattered, and the photograph itself was smeared with muddy footprints.

The once-smiling image of my mother now seemed to cry out in pain as she looked at me.

Offerings were scattered all over, and Helen's pet dog was chewing on them.

Helen stood off to the side, clapping her hands in delight.

I froze, feeling all the blood in my body rush to my head.

Every shred of reason, every ounce of patience I had tried to hold onto, disappeared.

Like a madwoman, I grabbed a vase and hurled it at the dog.

Chapter 3

The dog bolted in fear, while Helen screamed sharply as shards from the vase grazed her arm.

"Grace! What are you doing? How could you raise your hand against your sister?"

My father's voice boomed just as Helen threw herself into his arms, crying hysterically.

"Dad, help me! Grace tried to kill me…"

"Grace, this is too much!"

"Can't you see? She tossed over Mom's offerings and ruined her memorial photo—"

My entire body trembled as tears streamed down my face. I was heartbroken, devastated for my mother.

But my father merely glanced at the mess on the ground, frowning slightly. "That doesn't justify you hurting someone!"

"Dad—"

"Grace, your mother's been gone for so long. How can the dead be more important than the living?"

Helen, her face pale and trembling, chimed in softly. "Dad, it was my dog that accidentally knocked over the offerings. I was about to apologize to Grace, but she charged at me as soon as she came downstairs. I didn't even have time to explain before she threw the vase at me…"

She raised her bleeding arm, looking pitifully at my father.

"Dad, maybe it's better if Mom and I move out…"

"The dog doesn't understand, but do you?"

My father glared at me before suddenly raising his hand.

The slap was heavy, landing hard on my face.

I forgot to dodge.

He seemed startled for a moment, too, but in the end, he said nothing.

He simply turned and led Helen away to treat her wound.

I stood there watching their retreating figures for a long time before the burning pain on my cheek registered.

As I raised a hand to cover my swollen face, tears streamed down, but I let out a bitter laugh.

I knew then that this house was no longer a place I could call home.

In the middle of the night, I was suddenly awakened by cries and screams.

Just as I sat up, my door was kicked open from the outside.

My stepmother burst in, crying hysterically. Before I could react, a series of harsh slaps landed on my face.

"How could you be so cruel?"

"Isn't it enough that you hurt her during the day? Now you're trying to kill her?"

She threw herself into my father's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"She knows Helen is allergic to peaches, but she deliberately spilled peach juice all over the bed and pillows."

"She's trying to kill our daughter!"

"Alright, stop crying. Thankfully, Helen took her medication in time and isn't seriously harmed," my father said, soothing her gently. Then, he turned to me with a look of disdain.

"Grace, you've truly disappointed me."

"Move out tomorrow."

"Keeping you in this house will only bring turmoil to the whole family."

My stepmother's crying stopped abruptly, as if satisfied.

I stared at the man before me. Once upon a time, he was the person I loved most in the world.

He had loved me deeply too. I was his only daughter, the apple of his eye.

But everything changed.

It felt as though I had become a heroine in some tragic novel, stripped of everything, bit by bit.

At first, I couldn't understand. I cried, I fought, I resisted.

But now, I finally understood.

The bond between us as father and daughter was completely severed.

The day I moved out of the family home, my father said to me, "After your mother's death anniversary, I'll bring you back home."

I didn't respond.

After they left, I gathered every photo of Paul and me, as well as the pictures of my father and me over the years.

I shredded them all and burned the pieces.

Finally, I took out the wedding dress I had bought three years ago.

I had secretly purchased it after Paul confessed his love to me.

It was the dress I had envisioned countless times as a young girl—a gown that would make me look like a princess.

But now, I cut it to shreds with my own hands.

The remaining items were all the gifts Paul had given me over the past three years.

There were playful little trinkets and expensive jewelry.

I picked out the pricier ones and planned to ask my best friend to keep them for me.

Once I left Capital City, she could return them to Paul on my behalf.

That way, we would truly owe each other nothing.

As for the cheap, frivolous things meant to amuse me, I didn't hesitate—I packed them all up to throw away.

Once, even a tiny keychain from him was something I treasured deeply.

But now, as I prepared to discard it all, I didn't feel even the slightest ripple in my heart.

After finishing everything, I carefully wrapped my mother's memorial photo, placing it gently in the padded compartment of a box.

Without looking back, I left the home where I had lived for the past ten years.

As I stepped through the gate, Paul's car happened to pull up.