Michael’s words hung in the air, but Camila remained silent, offering no response.
Harry hesitated, unsure whether he should go in now. Just then, he heard Michael speak again, “Your body is yours to care for. You need to take better care of it.”
At first, Harry thought Camila would remain silent, as she had before, but this time, she spoke. Her voice was soft but cold. “Arthur insisted on beating me. What’s the point in taking care of my body?”
+13)
Michael didn’t expect her to say that. After a pause, he replied, “He beat you, but you could have avoided it. You stood there, and that’s why you ended up with all these bruises.”
Camila stared at him blankly, her gaze making Michael uncomfortable.
“What are you looking at me like that for?”
Camila said nothing.
It seemed like Michael was trying to care for her, but it didn’t feel that way. It was like being sick–someone who truly cared would take you to the doctor, get you medication, and tend to you, not just tell you to drink water.
She could have ignored him, but Michael frowned, his expression clearly showing that he thought she was ungrateful for his
concern.
Camila’s voice was weak but laced with bitterness. “How do you know I just stood there while he beat me? I can barely walk quickly. How am I supposed to avoid him?”
Her question caught Michael off guard. To be honest, Camila didn’t mean to challenge him—she was simply stating the facts.
But Michael, being a privileged young master, didn’t like being contradicted. The moment he got upset, he started speaking without thinking.
“Arthur is an easygoing man. If you hadn’t provoked him, he wouldn’t have hit you. If you get beaten, you need to look at yourself first. Stop blaming everyone else for your problems.”
Camila thought, ‘So, I am supposed to blame myself for being beaten?‘ Camila’s heart twisted with pain. As the weaker one, her resistance was like trying to break a rock with an egg.
She wasn’t a rich, pampered young lady–she was just a woman at the bottom, forced to endure and submit. She was the one being mistreated, but somehow, she was still the one being lectured.
She suddenly felt so tired. She didn’t want to argue anymore. Coldly, she said, “Leave.”
Michael was taken aback. “What did you say?”
“I said, leave.” Camila’s voice was weak from illness, but her tone was firm.
Michael had never been dismissed like that before. His face twisted with anger. “You really don’t know how to appreciate kindness.”
He turned to leave, but after taking two steps, he stopped and turned back. “The way you act is exactly why you’re suffering.”
His words cut through Camila like a sharp knife. Her face went pale, and in that moment, she felt all the blood drain from her body.
She bit her lip hard, and blood began to spill from the corner of her mouth. The taste of iron spread in her mouth, but she
1/3
19:47 Tue, 22 Apr SO
お
Chapter 30
didn’t even notice.
31%
Deep down, she knew that no one in this world truly understood her pain. No one was on her side, no one was fighting for her, no one was trying to make things right.
In everyone else’s eyes, her suffering was her own fault, something she deserved. But she wondered, ‘Why? Why is that my
fate?
*****
Outside the room, Harry crossed paths with Michael. Michael spoke gruffly, “I suggest you don’t go in. She’s really upset right now. If you go in, you’ll just get yelled at.”
Harry’s gaze shifted through the glass of the door, stopping on Camila’s frail, bruised body in the room. “How is she?” he asked.
Michael scoffed, “She still has the energy to argue with me. Clearly, she’s doing fine. By the way, why did your father hit her? To be honest, he really went too far.”
Harry didn’t respond. He just stood quietly, staring at Camila. His heart felt like it was being twisted painfully.
Seeing his silence, Michael kept muttering, “Could it be because she bullied Agnes, and that’s why…”
“Stop talking nonsense,” Harry interrupted sharply, his brow furrowing deeply.
“Isn’t it?” Michael pressed on.
“It’s not.”
“Alright then.” Seeing that Harry didn’t want to say more, Michael gave up. “I’ve got other things to do, so I’ll leave. You should rest too.”
Harry stood outside the room, his gaze fixed on Camila. After a long while, he finally turned and walked away with heavy steps.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing the spacious and bright kitchen in the Jackson family’s villa.
Hazel stood at the counter, carefully placing the dishes she had prepared for Camila into a thermal container. She had woken up early to cook these meals, hoping that if Camila ate well at the hospital, it might lift her spirits a little.
Just as she was about to grab the soup, a delicate, pale hand reached out.
Hazel looked up to see Agnes about to take the soup for herself. She quickly stopped her. “This is for Miss Jackson.”
Agnes narrowed her eyes, her tone dripping with arrogance and disdain. “Hazel, remember your place. You’re just a servant in this family, not the head of the house.”
Hazel froze. She knew she had no right to lecture Agnes, but it seemed that Agnes had never truly understood her own position.
With a sigh, Hazel said, “Miss Jackson is injured. This soup is meant to help her regain her
strength.”
Agnes’s face instantly turned sharp and mocking. She sneered, “What? She deserves the nourishment, but I don’t? Is that it?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Hazel tried to explain. “I just thought, Miss Jackson is in a very weak state right now, and this is the last bowl of soup we have. I wanted to give it to her for some extra nutrition.”
“So, you’re saying I don’t deserve it?” Agnes raised her voice, persistent. “What’s wrong with me having a little soup in my
2/3
Chapter 30
own home?
“Do I need a servant like you to tell me what I can and can’t eat? You just look down on me because I’m not Mom and Da biological daughter.”
Hazel shook her head urgently, her voice pleading. “Miss, I didn’t mean it like that at all…”
Agnes acted as though she had been deeply wronged, her eyes instantly filling with tears, sobbing uncontrollably.
At that moment, Arthur and Belinda came downstairs for breakfast. Hearing the commotion from the kitchen, they both furrowed their brows.
“What’s going on here? Why all this noise?” Arthur’s voice was sharp and commanding.
Belinda hurried over, seeing Agnes crying, and rushed to comfort her. “Agnes, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
Seeing Belinda, Agnes seemed to find comfort and rushed into her arms. “Mom, Hazel said I’m not your real daughter. St said I don’t deserve to eat the soup!”
Belinda’s expression darkened. She turned toward Hazel, her eyes cold and piercing. “Did you really say that to Agnes?”
Hazel quickly shook her head. She never imagined Agnes would twist her words like that. In that moment, she felt the san helplessness and anger she had witnessed when Camila was falsely accused.
“Mrs. Jackson, I never said Agnes doesn’t deserve the soup. I only said it should be given to Miss Jackson, who needs it for her recovery.”
This explanation did not satisfy Belinda. “Hazel, are you saying Agnes is lying?”
“I…” Hazel stammered, unable to finish her sentence.
Before she could explain further, Arthur snapped, “Hazel, I think you’re getting too old and confused. You can’t even tell right from wrong anymore.”
“Agnes is the legitimate daughter of the Jackson family,” Arthur continued, his voice sharp. “As for Camila, she’s nothing but a troublemaker, a criminal with no manners. Last night, she even tried to kill me.
“Does she really deserve to eat something as expensive as soup? Someone like her, a convict, deserves to spend her life in prison.”
3/3
