Chapter 6: The Past

At Winnie’s ridiculous question, Alexander’s blood pressure spiked. He tensed and glared at her. Beatrice rubbed his back, pretending she hadn’t heard a thing.

Alicia turned with a smile that wasn’t a smile and asked calmly, “Are you a virgin?”

Winnie panicked. Beatrice’s face changed at once, and she rushed to scold her daughter. “How dare you ask such a ridiculous question of your older sister? What’s wrong with you?”

Alicia regarded the mother and daughter—she had already seen through their act. Without another word, she ascended the stairs.

Alicia, guided by the maid, was shown to Catherine’s room. When she opened the door and stepped inside, she saw toys neatly arranged and photographs displayed everywhere—each one a snapshot of Catherine’s childhood.

Alicia’s fists clenched instinctively, her eyes blazing. She remembered Catherine’s sacrifice for her and whispered a cold vow, “Wherever you are, Cathy, I want you to be at peace and live freely. I’m going to make them regret stealing your childhood and making your life miserable. I’ll make sure every one of them is punished for the evil they did to you.”

Her ears twitched at the faint sound of footsteps. Quickly, she crossed to the bed and sat down. A knock sounded at the door, followed by the creak of the doorknob. Alexander appeared in the doorway and asked, “Can I come in?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Alicia replied.

With a gentle smile, Alexander exhaled in relief. He walked in slowly—not to the bed at first, but to a table lined with framed photos. He picked one up: a picture of himself, Catherine’s mother, and a young Catherine. Holding it carefully, he came to sit beside Alicia on the bed.

“I wish this moment had never ended so tragically,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Your mother meant the world to me. After she died, I couldn’t get over the loss. I kept thinking about her. Even now, I still can’t let go. I loved her so much.”

“Dad,” Alicia asked softly, turning to him, “if you loved my mom that much, why didn’t you investigate her accident properly? I still don’t believe it was just an accident.”

Alexander’s brows drew together. After a long pause, he sighed. “I hired many private investigators. They all concluded it was a normal accident. It’s been twenty years. It’ll be even harder now.”

“There’s no harm in trying,” Alicia said gently. “With today’s technology, very little is impossible. If you’re willing, you can get it done.”

“You’re right,” Alexander nodded. “I’ll have someone investigate again.”

“I think you should hire different people,” Alicia added, “with no ties to those you hired before.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, tentative but resolute.

An uneasy silence settled over the room. As it stretched on, Alexander reached for her hands, his expression creased with guilt. “I’m deeply sorry for what I did to you years ago. I was a terrible father. I thought you were unreasonable—a rebellious child. I didn’t understand what you were going through after losing your mother.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore, Dad,” Alicia said.

“It does,” he insisted, holding her hands tighter. “After I sent you away, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake. I searched for you everywhere, but I couldn’t find you. I—”

The door creaked open and Beatrice slipped into the room uninvited. “It’s time for dinner,” she said evenly. “Honey, why don’t you let her wash up and change so she can join us at the dining table? She’s probably very hungry after hours on the road.”

Alexander’s expression was sour, but he saw the sense in her words. He turned to Alicia with reluctance. “We’ll talk later.”

“Okay, Dad,” Alicia replied obediently.

Alexander’s lips lifted, clearly pleased by her deference. Watching the warmth between father and daughter, Beatrice’s face darkened. She clenched her fists but didn’t leave. She waited until Alexander walked out and descended the stairs before she turned away and made for her daughter’s room, frustration simmering.

Once inside, she shut the door and began pacing, her brow creased. Winnie watched her go back and forth until she felt dizzy. “Mom, what’s wrong? Why are you pacing like that?”

Beatrice only grumbled.

When she finally spoke, it was to no one in particular. “Why is Catherine so different? Was I lied to? If I’d known she wasn’t some hooligan who only speaks with her fists, I wouldn’t have let her come back.”

Winnie’s face tightened with irritation. Alexander had barely looked at her since Alicia walked through the door. “Mom, those bastards took our money and failed us. What are we going to do now? We can’t let Catherine take everything that should be ours, right?”

Beatrice sank into a chair, her expression bleak. “I didn’t expect that little bitch to find her way back. That old fool Alexander willed everything to her. And now she’s here…”

“Then we should get rid of her again,” Winnie snapped. “Or make her life so miserable she runs.”

Beatrice smirked, neither rejecting nor endorsing the idea outright. They left the room together.

By dinnertime, everyone had gathered, Alicia among them. She glanced down at her food, then looked at Beatrice with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Without drawing attention, she swapped her plate with Winnie’s.

Winnie took a bite and recoiled. “Why is this so spicy?”

Beatrice realized at once what Alicia had done. She stopped Winnie’s hand and, with a quick wink, said, “Here, take mine. I can’t finish it.”

Inside, Beatrice seethed. Her plan to make Alicia lash out at the maids had just fallen apart.

The moment Winnie tasted her mother’s rice and found it mild, her temper flared. She shot to her feet. “Margret! Margret!”

The mansion’s head chef hurried in. Before anyone could explain, Winnie struck her across the face.