Chapter 3

In the end, Grayson didn't let me sleep on the living room rug.

With a look of disgust, he grabbed me by the collar and dragged me like a soggy sack to the storage room at the end of the second floor.

"This is your room. Don't start any more trouble. Scarlett isn't well right now. She can't handle being frightened, so you'd better behave yourself."

I looked around the tiny room filled with old newspapers and dust and felt strangely at ease.

The corners seemed perfect for building a nest. A little seaweed would make it even better.

I slowly crawled onto the narrow bed and found an abandoned stuffed animal beside the pillow. I balanced it on top of my head, enjoying the feeling of keeping my center of gravity steady, then peacefully fell asleep.

Early the next morning, a shrill cry woke me.

Scarlett stood in the dining room with the shattered remains of a blue-and-white porcelain vase at her feet. It was Victor's favorite antique and was supposedly worth as much as a house.

"Daphne, how could you smash Dad's favorite vase just because you're jealous of me?" She sobbed as she pointed at me while I slowly walked into the dining room.

Yes. After getting some sleep, I seemed to have figured out how to walk like a human.

Victor came out of his study, his hands shaking with rage. Even the finger he pointed at the broken pieces was trembling. "Daphne, what do you have to say for yourself?"

I stopped and stared down at the fragments for about five seconds. Then I looked up at Victor and calmly said, "Oh. It's broken. So it's broken. Maybe it wanted to rest too. Standing there every day must've been exhausting."

The dining room fell silent for a full thirty seconds.

Victor's face went from red to purple and finally turned livid, making him look like an overripe eggplant. "What kind of nonsense is that? That antique was worth five million dollars!"

The number didn't frighten me.

At the bottom of the ocean, even the prettiest pearls were just things to step on. No one cared much about possessions.

"Money is just a number. A vase is just clay. We should learn to accept that it's gone. There's no need to get so worked up."

I pulled out a chair, sat down, and slowly began peeling an orange.

Scarlett's sobbing abruptly stopped. She probably hadn't expected me to react this way.

Normally, Daphne would have been screaming that she was innocent and accusing Scarlett of breaking the vase herself.

But I was a capybara. The word "argue" didn't exist in my world. It used up too much energy.

Grayson stormed over and snatched the freshly peeled orange from my hand. "You're still thinking about food? Apologize to Scarlett! Get down on your knees and apologize to Dad!"

I stared at my empty palm, then at his furious face. "The orange is innocent. Give it back first."

Grayson threw the orange onto the floor and stomped on it. Juice splattered everywhere. "Daphne, did you fry your brain while you were gone?"

I looked at the puddle of orange juice on the floor and sighed softly, a trace of compassion in my eyes. "The orange is broken too. It wanted to rest."

Adeline clutched her chest and leaned against her chair, gasping as though she could barely breathe. "What a disgrace. How did I give birth to a freak like this?"

I ignored their hysteria and picked the roundest orange from the fruit bowl. This time, I didn't peel it. Instead, I carefully balanced it on top of my head.

Then I closed my eyes, rested my hands on my knees, and began my morning meditation.

Scarlett stared at me, an orange balanced on my head as I sat there expressionlessly, her eyes filled with fear. She probably thought I'd turned into some kind of indescribable horror.