Accused

Isabella ran as fast as her legs could carry her toward her street. Her chest burned, her breath came in short bursts, and her shoes slapped loudly against the ground. Before she could even get much farther, the sky opened up and heavy rain poured down on her, soaking her uniform in seconds.

“Shit… just great,” she muttered, shivering as the cold water plastered her clothes to her skin.

She knew this would only make things worse. Her stepmother was already going to scream at her for returning home instead of going to school. Showing up drenched would just add fuel to the fire. But Isabella didn’t stop. She pushed forward, her hair sticking to her face, until she reached the front door of the house.

She raised her fist and knocked loudly the first time. No answer.

She knocked a second time, harder, her knuckles sore against the wood. Still no answer.

Just as she was about to knock a third time, the door creaked open. Her stepmother, Clarissa, stood there with a sharp expression on her face. Isabella barely had time to step inside when

Smack!

A heavy slap landed across her cheek. The force of it made her stumble back, almost falling onto the wet floor.

Her palm flew to her stinging cheek, and she looked up, stunned. Her own father, Richard, stood in front of her, his eyes burning with anger.

Her older brother, Damien, leaned lazily against the wall, arms crossed, watching the whole thing without moving a finger. His face was blank. Cold. He didn’t even blink when she got hit. Of course, Isabella thought bitterly, he never cared.

Richard stepped forward and grabbed her by the collar of her wet school uniform. He shook her roughly, his voice booming through the house.

“Are you this despicable, Isabella?!”

Her lips trembled. “W-what did I do wrong?”

Instead of answering, he shoved her hard. She crashed to the floor, her knees hitting the tiles painfully.

Isabella’s chest tightened. She had just escaped danger outside. Bullets. Blood. Chaos. And now, this was her welcome home? Nobody cared enough to ask why she had come back early or what she had gone through.

She clenched her fists, forcing herself not to cry. But then, the soft sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Her stepsister, Isolde, appeared from her room, her eyes glistening with fake tears. She looked delicate, fragile, like an angel about to break. Instantly, Damien rushed over to her side, holding her like she was the one who had been hurt.

Richard’s voice thundered again. “How could you, Isabella? How could you steal from Isolde?!”

Isabella blinked, her eyes wide. “What? Steal? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t call me your father!” Richard barked, his hand twitching like he wanted to slap her again.

Damien stepped forward, his face hard with disappointment. “I always thought you were considerate, Isabella. But how could you steal Isolde’s tuition f*e?”

Her heart dropped. Even Damien thought she would do something like that?

Before she could speak, Isolde sniffled softly and reached for Damien’s hand. “Brother… it’s not Isabella’s fault. I guess… she was just upset that I got into the university before her.”

Isabella bit down hard on her bottom lip, fighting back her tears. The perfect act. Always the perfect act.

Damien’s expression wavered slightly, but Richard’s anger only grew.

And then Isolde added, her voice so soft, so innocent, “If she wants, I’ll stay home until she graduates high school. Maybe then she won’t be so mad at me.”

Isabella’s jaw dropped. She was dumbfounded. The lies, the manipulation~it was flawless. They actually believed her.

Slowly, Isabella stood up from the floor. Her face was red, her tears finally falling as she stared directly at her father and brother. Her voice shook, but it was loud enough to cut through the room.

“You didn’t even bother to ask me if I took what you’re accusing me of. You didn’t even bother to confirm it before you believed her. Dad!”

Richard’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“You didn’t even care to ask why I came back home soaked in the rain. And you~” she turned sharply, pointing at Damien. “I thought you cared! But you think I would stoop so low to stealing her tuition fees?”

Isolde gasped dramatically. “I’m not lying! I saw her take my money with my own eyes!”

She clung tighter to Damien’s arm. “I think she was just… angry that she was the one who worked for my tuition f*e.”

Her voice trembled just the right way, and her eyes even shimmered with tears. Then she turned to Isabella, voice gentle, almost pitying. “I promise I’ll pay back every cent once I finish university. But please, Isabella, just admit you took the money.”

Before Isabella could open her mouth, Isolde suddenly snatched her school bag from her shoulder. She pulled it open and dumped its contents onto the floor.

Bundles of cash spilled out.

Isabella’s eyes widened. That wasn’t hers.

Richard’s face turned red with rage. Without hesitation, he slapped her again~this one so hard that she fell flat onto the floor, her cheek burning hot, her ears ringing.

Damien’s eyes flicked to her, disgust plain on his face. That look hurt worse than the slap.

Isabella pushed herself up slowly, her hands shaking. Her voice cracked, but her words were sharp.

“Since you all believe I took the money… so what if I did?!”

Everyone froze.

She glared at them through her tears. “Isn’t it the money I worked for anyway?”

Isolde rushed dramatically into Richard’s arms. “See, Dad? I told you! She’s just angry because she had to work for it!”

Richard pointed a trembling finger at Isabella. “What use are you to this family if you don’t work, huh? You were brought up in the orphanage, you lack manners, and I wonder every day how I could father a child like you. Your mother~God rest her soul ~must be rolling in her grave for birthing a child like you!”

Isabella let out a bitter, broken laugh. “Dad? You call yourself my dad?”

Her voice rose, shaking with years of bottled pain. “What use am I if I don’t work? I’ve been working my entire life to support this family! I do five jobs just to keep food on the table for all of you. Do you ever feel sorry for me? Ever?” Her fists trembled. “I’m the same age as Isolde. So why am I the one working while she wears nice clothes and sits around? Why do you always believe anything she says~just because she smiles sweetly at you?”

“Enough!” Richard shouted, cutting her off. “Apologize to Isolde right now and I’ll let this go.”

Isolde pressed her hand against Richard’s arm, her lips curved into a small, cunning smile that only Isabella noticed. “Dad, it’s okay. She doesn’t have to apologize. She was just angry.”

Richard shook his head stubbornly. “No. Can’t you see how kind your sister is, Isabella? Why can’t you be more like her?”

Isabella stared at them, stunned by their blindness.

“If you don’t apologize right now,” Richard said coldly, “I’ll cut ties with you completely.”

Isolde’s smile faltered for a split second. She knew without Isabella, the money would stop flowing. Quickly, she stepped in, playing the angel again. “Dad! Please, don’t say that. Isabella is still my sister. She was just angry, that’s all.”

For the first time, Damien looked guilty. He walked closer to Isabella, his tone softer than before. “Why did you even come back home so early? What happened?”

Isabella’s eyes met his for a brief second. For a moment, she wanted to scream everything~to tell him about the shootout, about Alessandro, about almost dying. But she didn’t.

She brushed past him without a word, her voice tight with pain. “Don’t bother asking now.”

Then she walked straight to her room, slamming the door behind her.