Chapter 8
In the Jackson family’s garage. Harry sat in the car, reviewing the dashcam footage.
During the fifteen–minute drive from the prison to the house, Camila had kept her hands on her lap, her body pressed against the car window, not once moving or even glancing at the gown. She hadn’t even touched it
As he thought about how they had falsely accused her, a tight knot of guilt and self–reproach formed in his chest. The image of her cold, resolute face as she confronted them replayed over and over in his mind.
In his memories, she had always been so cheerful. When she came home, she would greet him with a smile, call him “Harry” warmly, pour him coffee, and run around saying, “Harry, you must be tired from work.”
But now, she seemed like a completely different person. Harry felt a pounding headache and closed his eyes, leaning back against the leather seat in exhaustion.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but suddenly, he heard Camila’s gentle voice from a distance. “Hazel, you don’t need to see me off. Go back
“Miss Jackson, please be careful. If anything happens, call me, Hazel said.
Harry snapped his eyes open and immediately saw Camila and Hazel standing at the gate of the villa. After exchanging a few words, Camila turned to leave.
Seeing this, Harry quickly got out of the car and shouted, “Camila, where are you going?”
His voice rang through the quiet courtyard like a clap of thunder, startling Hazel. “Mr. Jackson, what are you doing here? Aren’t you
Harry shot her a cold look, silencing her with a glance. He then turned to Camila and coldly ordered, “Camila, stop” But Camila didn’t even slow down. She just kept limping forward, as though she hadn’t heard him..
Her indifference made Harry’s heart tighten. A single thought flashed through his mind: Camila was leaving the Jackson family.
Panic surged in him, and he rushed forward, grabbing her arm. “Are you deaf? Didn’t you hear me tell you to stop?” Camila turned and saw it was Harry, Her expression flickered for a moment.
Yes, she hadn’t heard him. In the first year after her imprisonment, her left ear had been damaged from repeated beatings, and over time, even her right ear’s hearing had worsened. Unless someone spoke directly in front of her, she often couldn’t hear clearly.
Camila pulled her gaze away and stubbornly tried to pull her arm free. “Let go of me.”
As he saw her so defiant, the guilt Harry had been feeling was quickly replaced by a surge of frustration. “Are you done? Today is Agnes’s birthday!
“You made a scene at the party, and now you’re tryin
trying to run away? Why can’t you just be reasonable?”
Ignoring her struggle, he yanked her arm again, pulling her roughly. “You’re coming back with me now.”
His grip was like iron, tightening with every pull. Camila winced, a sharp pain shooting through her arm, as if her bones might break under his force.
She was overwhelmed with a sense of injustice, her eyes s back! Let me go!”
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stinging with tears. She cried out, her voice breaking. I’m not going
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Chapter 8
With every tug. her body swayed, each step feeling heavier than the last. Her injured leg buckled under the strain, and her strength quickly began to falter.
Hazel anxiously urged from the side, “Mr. Jackson, please be gentle. Miss Jackson is still injured.”
At her words, Harry’s gaze softened with a hint of concern. He loosened his grip on her slightly but didn’t let go.
He looked at Camila, his brow furrowed “Come home with me.
Td rather die out there than stay in the Jackson family.” Camila stubbornly pulled away from him.
Harry was completely enraged. His reason was drowned out by his fury. In a fit of rage, he raised his foot and kicked Camila’s injured leg. “Are you coming back or not?”
What was meant to be a light reprimand turned into something more, and Camila let out a pained scream as she fell hard to the ground.
She clutched her leg, her body curled up in pain, her face as pale as paper, sweat beading on her forehead. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably, and her throat only released painful whimpers, her body too racked with pain to speak.
As he saw her in such agony. Harry’s heart ached, but his panic caused him to
pretending to be so hurt. But his voice trembled, betraying his guilt and stammer. I barely kicked you. Stop
fear.
Hazel, horrified, quickly knelt beside Camila. “Miss Jackson, what’s wrong?”
The bone–crushing pain in her leg pulled Camila back to the second year of her imprisonment.
She couldn’t remember why she was beaten, but she clearly recalled the brutal faces of her tormentors, lifting heavy wooden sticks high and smashing them into her legs.
She cried out for mercy, but the blows didn’t stop. They smashed six thick sticks on her legs, breaking them before they finally relented.
The leader of the group grabbed her by the hair and warned, “Don’t think about reporting this to the guards. You’ve offended the wrong people, and someone made sure we kept an eye on you.”
Camila’s eyes glazed over, her body trembling violently. She mumbled, Tm sorry, please let me go, I’m sorry…” Her voice was filled with terror and hopelessness, like a wounded animal crying for help.
Hazel, tears streaming down her face, panicked and asked, “Miss Jackson, what’s happening to you?”
“It hurts, it hurts so much,” Camila whispered in a broken voice.
Those words pierced Harry’s heart like a knife. “I didn’t even kick you hard–how can it hurt this much?”
Ignoring Harry, Hazel carefully lifted Camila’s pant leg. The sight that met them was horrifying.
Camila’s lower leg was severely deformed. What had once been straight bones were now twisted at an odd angle, and her skin was covered in a web of old and new scars.
Some wounds were still fresh and swollen, while others had formed ugly scabs, leaving permanent marks.
The constant pain had caused the muscles in her leg to atrophy, leaving it thin and fragile, like a dead twig compared to a healthy leg.
Harry’s eyes locked onto the gruesome sight of her leg. His body seemed frozen, and his mind went blank, as if he had been struck by a heavy blow. He could hardly process what he was seeing.
“How did this happen? She was fine when she went to prison. How could… in just five years…” He muttered to himself, but
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Chapter 8
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then his voice trailed off as something clicked in his mind.
He thought. That is a prison, a place for criminals–what kind of life could an eighteen–year–old girl like Camila have had
there?”
His heart shattered, and his eyes quickly filled with tears, Clenching his teeth to fight back the pain, he rushed forward, scooping Camila into his arms and, without a second thought, bolted for the villa.
His steps were frantic and disordered, but as soon as he entered the living room, he froze. He realized he didn’t even know where Camila’s room was. After all these years, he had paid so little attention to her.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment. “Hazel, where is Camila’s room?”
This way, Mr. Jackson.” Hazel quickly led the way.
Harry followed closely behind, but the further they went, the more his brow furrowed. He had no idea that the house had such a secluded room.
When Hazel opened the door to the storage room, Harry was struck by the sight: a cramped, dark, damp room, filled with clutter and no windows.
His eyes widened in shock. “Camila… lives here?”
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