Chapter 2

My head felt like it was about to split apart.

Mom walked over with a bright smile and pulled out a box cutter, placing it in Sylvie's hand. "Here, Sylvie. Cut her face. She wants to be a dancer, doesn't she? Let's see how she's going to perform onstage with scars across her face."

Before I knew it, a searing pain tore across my face. Every cut felt like it was ripping through my nerves.

I vaguely remembered how Mom used to cup my face in her hands with that same beautiful smile. "You have such a pretty face, Rosie. You stand out even among all the other dancers."

The school bell rang. Sylvie dropped the knife, then took Mom and Dad by the hands and walked away with them. I could still hear their cheerful conversation.

"It's your 18th birthday in another two days. We're going to throw you the most extravagant birthday party ever…"

Only after they left did a teacher finally notice me lying there, covered in blood. "Are you okay? Who did this to you? I'll call an ambulance. In the meantime, can you tell me your parents' phone number?"

Warm blood mixed with my tears as it trickled down the corner of my mouth. I clenched my teeth and refused to say a word.

How could I? Even if I could, I wouldn't want to, either. After all, who would believe me if I said my parents were the ones who beat me into this state?

This morning, I felt much better from my cold. After I begged Mom and Dad to proceed with their day, they finally agreed to go to the market and set up their fish stall.

But they didn't come home for lunch, even when it was way past lunchtime.

I started to worry. I figured the fish stall must've been too busy and they couldn't get away. So, I heated some food and took it to them, thinking I could at least help out.

But when I arrived at the market, the vendors told me there were no couples selling fish there. I stood there in a daze until I spotted Mom and Dad in the distance.

I took off after them and eventually followed them into an elite private school. I was looking around, wondering which floor they went to, when someone suddenly grabbed me by the hair and yanked me backward.

"Where the hell did you come from? How dare you get in my way!"

I turned around and found a strange female student looking down at me. I was stunned. Before I could even react, one of her clique members stepped forward and slapped me across the face.

"What, cat got your tongue? Do you even know who she is? She's Sylvie Putnam, the daughter of Edward Putnam, CEO of Putnam Group! Do you think you can afford to mess with her?"

My mind went blank. Dad's name was also Edward Putnam.

It was only then that I belatedly realized the truth. My parents had been pretending to be poor this entire time. In fact, my family was filthy rich.

They weren't some hardworking couple who spent their days selling fish at a market, and I certainly wasn't their only daughter—they had another one who had grown up surrounded by wealth and luxury!

Before I could even process what was happening, Sylvie and her clique grabbed me, slammed me to the ground, and beat me within an inch of my life.

I kept thinking everything would be okay once Mom and Dad arrived, but to my dismay, they ended up being the ones hurting me.

I remembered them holding me in their arms on my birthdays and coming all the way to my dance studio just to cheer me on.

Mom would pull me into a hug and cry because she was so heartbroken that I had gotten hurt. Dad would even drive all over town just to make sure he could bring home my favorite strawberry cake before I got out of school.

But today, they battered me without mercy, determined to cripple me. They slashed my face and even shamelessly told me I would never dance again.

These were the same people who once paid for my scoliosis surgery so I could pass my dance auditions, the same parents who bought me the most beautiful dance costumes.

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, and if someone had told me Mom and Dad had been lying to me all along and had another daughter somewhere out there, I would've called them bluff.

…

"Urgent! This patient needs emergency surgery!"

When I woke up in the hospital again, several doctors and nurses were frantically rushing me toward the operating room. I heard the nurses whispering among themselves.

"Why haven't her parents arrived yet? She's just a kid. How can they not bother to come after she's been thrashed so badly?"

"Well, I heard she got on the wrong side of the Putnam heiress."

"The school already called the police, but that family has money. I'm sure they'll do everything they can to get their daughter off the hook."