Chapter 5

I was well aware that Mom and Dad weren't looking at me; they were looking at an enemy who had killed Asher and was now attempting to steal from them.

Mom and Dad only needed a reason to vent their anger. Neither of them cared if Archer was telling the truth, nor did they give a damn if I was being framed.

But I cared. Asher's death was indeed my fault. Mom and Dad could beat me and curse at me, and I'd take it, but they absolutely couldn't slander me. "It wasn't me! I didn't do it! It was Archer—"

My attempt to defend myself only seemed to fan the flames of Dad's fury. He grabbed a wooden club and swung it at me. "Ash died saving you, yet you're stealing from your own family? We don't raise thieves in this house!"

The moment Asher was mentioned, tears cascaded down my face. "I didn't do it! If Asher were still here, he would believe me!"

God, what I'd give to have Asher back. If he were still here, I would undoubtedly be the happiest person on earth. He would take me out for delicious food and buy me my favorite toys.

Most of all, he would protect me. He would lay down his life to shield me from even the slightest harm.

But the more beautiful the fantasy, the harsher the reality. More often than not, I wished Asher hadn't saved me. He should've just let those human traffickers kidnap me. I'd probably be better off right now.

"How dare you bring up your brother!"

Blows rained down upon my body. Clenching my jaw, I took the beating without making a sound.

Mom looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. "How could your worthless life ever compare to your brother's? You worthless piece of trash, you're nothing more than a plaything we created for Ash. If your brother hadn't pleaded with us for a younger sister when he was a child, we would never have brought you into this world!"

As it turned out, Asher was the only one who had ever wanted me to come into this world. I had no idea I was merely a plaything for him.

"You're right, you never should've had me. I, too, wish I could trade my life to bring Asher back..."

Dad's hand froze in midair, as if I'd struck a chord.

Archer hurriedly stepped forward. "Don't hit Phoebe anymore, Dad. It's all my fault. I'm her older brother, yet I didn't raise her right. If Asher were still here, Phoebe wouldn't have turned out like this."

Dad, who had just been lost in thought, instantly snapped back to reality. His eyes went cold again. "It's not your fault, Archer. She was born evil. She already took Asher from us. I won't let her stay here and ruin your life, too!"

With that, he raised his club again, beating me within an inch of my life. I curled into a ball on the floor, shielding my head, as pain pulsed through every single part of my body.

The metallic tang of blood in my mouth intensified until I coughed up a mouthful of blood onto the floor. Eventually, I could no longer feel the pain.

I noticed Archer flash me a triumphant smirk, as if he were gloating, "Once you die, everything in the Sullivan family will be mine!"

But was I really about to die? As my mind started shutting down, I knew I was drifting off into a sleep from which I would never awaken.

Right then, a young man who looked like a carbon copy of Asher suddenly pushed the front door open. "Pheebs…" It was that familiar voice, that familiar face.

The wooden club clattered heavily onto the floor. Mom's and Dad's eyes widened in unison, freezing in disbelief.

I stared blankly at him, and for the first time in five long years, a genuine smile broke across my face. "Asher... you're back!"