Chapter 2

Penelope's POV

After Henry left, I pulled the IV needle out of the back of my hand. It stung a little, and a few drops of blood came out, but I didn't care.

I just wanted to surprise Dad when he got home.

Whenever Dad came home exhausted from work, he used to love eating the clementines I peeled for him. He'd always smile and tell me what a sweet, thoughtful little girl I was.

Remembering that, I hurried to the grocery store and bought some clementines. I carefully peeled them one by one, picking off every little string of white pith until they were completely clean.

Then, I carried the plate into the living room and waited for Dad to come home.

It was already dark when I finally heard the front door open. I immediately picked up the plate and ran over to him.

"Dad, I peeled some clementines for you! They're really sweet."

Dad barely glanced at the plate before walking straight past me toward the stairs. "I don't want any. Throw them out."

I lost my grip on the plate, and the clementines tumbled onto the floor. As I crouched down to pick them up, I couldn't help pouting.

The system sighed. "Host, trying to please Nathaniel the usual way isn't going to work. He's still too angry to appreciate anything you do."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" I asked.

"He can't forgive your mom for walking out on him, but he's still in love with her," said the system. "Since he won't accept you for who you are, maybe you should try being more like the person he misses."

More like the person he misses?

I hurried into the study and found the photo album Mom had left behind.

It was filled with pictures of her, and Dad had written the same note on the back of every single one—My beloved Larissa.

As I looked through the album, I realized Dad must have loved Mom very much. Maybe that was why he'd been so angry ever since she disappeared.

If I could remind him of her, perhaps he'd start treating me better.

I found Mom's favorite white dress and put it on, using a safety pin to tighten the waist so it would fit me.

Then, I took out the tin of chamomile tea she'd left behind and tried my best to make tea. I wasn't very good at boiling water or preparing tea, but I remembered that Mom used to make it for Dad whenever he was upset. She said it helped him calm down.

At 10:00 pm, I finally heard someone coming in downstairs.

This time, Dad hadn't come home alone. He'd brought Daniella with him.

Daniella looked beautiful in a long red dress. She had her arm linked through Dad's and smiled warmly when she saw me.

"Oh, you must be Penelope! My goodness, you look just like your mom."

Dad's expression darkened the moment she mentioned Mom.

I ignored Daniella and carefully carried the cup of tea over to him.

"Dad, I made you some chamomile tea."

I'd tried to sound exactly like Mom when she spoke to him. I'd even tucked my hair behind my ear the way she always did.

Dad looked down at me, but instead of smiling as I'd hoped, he grew increasingly cold.

"Who told you to put that on?"

He wasn't speaking loudly, but something about his tone frightened me so much that I started trembling.

"I-I thought you'd like it, Dad…"

He knocked the cup out of my hands, sending scalding tea splashing across the top of my foot.

"Ouch!" I cried as the cup shattered against the floor.

Daniella gasped and immediately reached for Dad's hand. "Nathaniel, are you alright? Did you get burned?"

Dad shook his head without taking his eyes off me.

The top of my foot had already turned bright red, and it hurt terribly. But I bit my lip and fought back my tears, afraid that crying would only make Dad dislike me more.

"Take it off."

I stared at him in confusion. "Dad?"

"I said take off that dress!"

He suddenly raised his voice, frightening me into taking a step back.

"Your mother never wore that dress to suck up to anyone! She'd never lower herself like that! Did that woman tell you to do this? Is that it? Is she hiding somewhere nearby, watching you put on this little act to get me to do what she wants?"

I shook my head desperately. "No, Dad! Mom didn't—"

"Shut up!"

Dad stormed toward me and grabbed the neckline of my dress. He gave it a hard tug, tearing the fabric.

I burst into tears when I saw the rip in Mom's favorite dress.

"Dad, please don't ruin the dress! It's Mom's!"

"So you're aware it belongs to her?"

He threw the torn piece of fabric onto the floor and stepped on it. "Don't ever let me catch you pretending to be that woman again. And I don't want to hear her name mentioned in this house!"

Then, he pointed toward the stairs, his expression cold.

"Get back to your room. You're grounded for a week."

I lowered my head and whispered, "I'm sorry, Dad."

He ignored my apology and turned to the housekeeper. "Clean up this mess, wash the dress, and put it away. Don't let Penelope into the master bedroom again."

I ran back to my room barefoot.

By then, a blister had formed where the hot tea had burned my foot, but I barely noticed the pain anymore.

I just felt a chill that was even colder than when I was sick with that awful fever.