Chapter 1: The Woman Who Finally Spoke
I pressed my ear harder against the bedroom door.
Downstairs, the silence stretched so long that I wondered whether Mrs. Collins had decided not to answer.
Then I heard her.
"Yes, Mr. Bennett. I saw everything.""
My heart slammed against my ribs.
My father exhaled sharply.
"Then why didn't you come forward when Olivia accused Vanessa?""
"Because Mrs. Bennett told me not to.""
A chill crawled down my spine.
Vanessa.
Of course.
My father lowered his voice.
"What exactly did she tell you?""
Mrs. Collins hesitated.
"She said that if I contradicted her, I would lose my job. She also reminded me that my husband still works for your company.""
I covered my mouth.
My father said nothing.
For three years, Mrs. Collins had worked in our house. She had been there when my mother died, when Dad brought Vanessa home for the first time, and when Vanessa gradually transformed our home into a place where I felt like an unwanted guest.
She had always been kind to me.
She slipped extra cookies onto my plate when Vanessa complained about my appetite. She sometimes left fresh flowers in my bedroom because she knew I missed my mother.
But she had never openly challenged Vanessa.
Now I understood why.
"Mrs. Collins," my father finally said, "are you telling me Vanessa lied?""
"I'm telling you what I witnessed, sir.""
"And what did you witness?""
"Mrs. Bennett slapped Olivia.""
I closed my eyes.
Finally.
Someone had said it.
Someone had actually said the truth.
Then Mrs. Collins continued.
"And she did something else.""
My eyes opened.
"What?""
"Before you came home, she deliberately knocked over the vase beside the sofa. She told Olivia that nobody would believe her if she made the story look like an accident.""
My stomach tightened.
There was another silence.
Then my father's voice changed.
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?""
"Because I was afraid, sir.""
"Afraid of what?""
"Of losing everything.""
I heard footsteps.
A chair moved.
Then my father asked the question that made my blood run cold.
"Did Vanessa know you were watching?""
Mrs. Collins didn't answer immediately.
When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible.
"Yes, sir.""
My father cursed under his breath.
I stepped away from the door.
For the first time since the afternoon, I felt something other than fear.
Hope.
Perhaps Dad would come upstairs. Perhaps he would unlock my bedroom door, look at my injured cheek, and apologize.
Perhaps he would finally remember that I was his daughter.
Then I heard another voice.
Vanessa.
"Daniel? What are you doing down here?""
My entire body stiffened.
"Nothing," Dad replied.
"Nothing? I thought you were dealing with Olivia.""
"I am.""
Vanessa laughed softly.
"Well, I hope you've made her understand that she cannot behave like this. I won't tolerate being attacked in my own home.""
I moved toward the door again.
Dad's response was quiet.
"Vanessa, I need to talk to you.""
"About what?""
"Mrs. Collins.""
A pause.
Then Vanessa laughed again.
"Oh, that old woman? What's she done now?""
"She says she saw what happened.""
The silence that followed was different.
It was not confusion.
It was calculation.
"Daniel," Vanessa said carefully, "you aren't seriously entertaining this, are you?""
"She says you slapped Olivia.""
"That's ridiculous.""
"She says you threatened her.""
"She's lying.""
"Why would she lie?""
Vanessa sighed dramatically.
"Because Olivia has been manipulating everyone in this house for years. She knows how to make people feel sorry for her. I thought you understood that by now.""
My fingernails dug into my palms.
There it was again.
The same accusation.
The same trick.
Turn the person who suffered into the person who caused everything.
Dad didn't answer.
Vanessa moved closer to him.
"Daniel, look at me.""
I imagined her placing both hands on his chest.
"After everything I've done for this family, you're going to question my character because of a teenage girl who cannot accept that her father has moved on?""
"Olivia isn't a little girl anymore," Dad said.
"Exactly. She's old enough to know better.""
Then came the sound of a glass being placed on the counter.
Vanessa spoke again.
"Besides, if we're discussing what happened, perhaps you should ask why Olivia was holding my wrist so aggressively.""
My stomach dropped.
She was already changing the story.
"Mrs. Collins says—"
"Mrs. Collins is an employee, Daniel. An employee who has become far too comfortable involving herself in family matters.""
I heard Dad sigh.
"Let's discuss this upstairs.""
"No.""
One word.
Firm.
Cold.
"I want you to understand something before you make another mistake. If Olivia is allowed to get away with this, she'll never respect me. And if she doesn't respect me, this marriage will become impossible.""
My father said nothing.
Then Vanessa delivered the sentence that destroyed the last bit of hope I had.
"You promised me I would never have to compete with your daughter for my place in this family.""
I stepped back.
I couldn't believe what I had heard.
Compete?
I had never asked her to love me.
I had only wanted her to stop treating me like an intruder.
A few moments later, footsteps approached the staircase.
I hurried toward my bed and sat down.
The lock clicked.
Dad entered.
His face looked older than it had that afternoon.
"Olivia.""
I looked at him.
"Yes?""
He closed the door behind him.
"Your stepmother and I have talked.""
I swallowed.
"And?""
He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Things have gotten out of control.""
"She slapped me.""
"I know what you said.""
"No, Dad. She actually slapped me. Look at my face.""
He glanced at my cheek.
The redness was fading, but a faint mark remained.
His expression tightened.
"I should have listened to you earlier.""
My throat burned.
"Then you believe me?""
He looked toward the hallway.
"I believe that something happened. But I don't want this family tearing itself apart over one argument.""
"One argument?""
My voice cracked.
"She hit me, Dad.""
"Olivia, please.""
"Why are you asking me to make peace with someone who hurts me?""
He sat on the edge of my bed.
"Vanessa has been under tremendous pressure. She's trying to maintain this household while I deal with the company.""
I stared at him.
"Did you just make an excuse for her?""
He looked uncomfortable.
"That's not what I meant.""
"Then what did you mean?""
He took a breath.
"Your stepmother wants an apology.""
I actually laughed.
It came out small and broken.
"She wants me to apologize?""
"She says you grabbed her wrist.""
"Because she raised her hand to hit me again!""
"Olivia.""
"She threw herself on the floor!""
"Enough.""
His voice became sharp.
I flinched.
He noticed.
For a second, regret crossed his face.
Then he stood.
"You're staying in your room tonight. Tomorrow, we'll discuss this calmly.""
"Am I allowed to leave my room?""
"Don't make this difficult.""
He walked toward the door.
I watched him reach for the handle.
"Did Mom ever tell you to marry someone who would replace her?""
He stopped.
His shoulders stiffened.
"Don't bring your mother into this.""
"Why? Because she would never have treated me this way?""
He turned around.
His expression was exhausted.
"Your mother is gone, Olivia. Vanessa is my wife now. You need to accept that.""
Then he left.
The door closed.
I stared at it for several minutes.
My father had finally heard the truth.
And somehow, I was still the one being punished.
At 10:47 p.m., my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
Olivia, don't confront Vanessa again. I have something important to show you.
I sat upright.
Who is this?
The reply came immediately.
It's Mrs. Collins.
Another message followed.
Your mother left something for you before she died.
My breath caught.
What are you talking about?
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally, she sent a photograph.
It showed an old brown envelope with my name written across the front.
My mother's handwriting.
May you like
And beneath it, Mrs. Collins had written six words.
Your father doesn't know this exists.
