Chapter 3

Tyler pretended to wipe nonexistent tears from the corners of his eyes and gave a weak little nod. "Okay. I'll do whatever you say."

Then he got to his feet and walked toward me, unable to hide the smugness in his voice. "William, I'm sorry. My anxiety acted up again because of what you said.

"The doctor said the only way I'll get better is if the person responsible for all this gets punished. So I guess you'll just have to suffer a little!"

"Why should he get any sympathy?" Fiona and Janet demanded in unison.

"Tyler, you're just too kind!"

"Someone like him is a menace. No matter what we do to him, he won't die!"

"In that case..." A cruel smile curled across Tyler's lips, hidden from the other two. "I heard William loves playing the piano. So why don't we start by breaking one of his hands?"

Tyler's utterly deranged suggestion sent a shiver down my spine.

I tightened my arms around the urn.

The burly men in black who had brought me there were already closing in, each carrying a hammer.

Helpless, I could only place my last hope in the two women I had once considered my closest family.

"Fiona, you're my wife! Are you really going to stand there and watch this happen? Janet! I'm your brother! Your own brother!

"What exactly did I do wrong?! Why are you treating me like this?!" I demanded, my body covered in dirt and grime.

All I got in return was their merciless mockery.

"I'm your wife? Weren't you the one who so proudly demanded a divorce that day? Weren't you the one who refused to admit your mistake and apologize?" Fiona sneered coldly. "Don't worry. You'll remember soon enough."

"Brother? What brother? The moment you killed our parents, I stopped having a brother!" Janet raised the whip high above her head and brought it crashing down across my thin back. "What are you waiting for?! Do it!"

Pain tore through my entire body, sending me into convulsions.

When I opened my eyes again, the men with the hammers had already reached me.

Ignoring my struggles, they forcibly wrenched one of my arms away from the urn, stretched it straight, and held it suspended in the air.

The heavy iron hammer came down with a dull thud.

My mind went blank for a moment. The urn I had been clutching tightly slipped from my grasp and crashed to the ground.

The sight jolted me back to my senses.

"Xalia!" I screamed desperately.

My cry made the black-clad men hesitate.

I immediately seized the opportunity to break free and crawled toward the overturned urn.

Ignoring the searing pain from my broken bones, I frantically gathered the ashes scattered across the floor and tried to put them back inside.

My bizarre reaction caught the attention of the three people watching from the sidelines.

"Fiona, Janet, look at what William is doing. Is that an urn he's holding?" Tyler covered his mouth in feigned surprise, his voice deliberately exaggerated. "He seemed to call out Xalia's name just now. Could that be Xalia's urn?"

The moment Tyler said "Xalia's urn," something flickered in Fiona's and Janet's eyes.

A trace of unease even crossed their faces.

But the very next second, Tyler changed his tone. "That's strange. How could that be? Janet said Xalia's condition was completely stable. How could anything have happened to her?

"William, you wouldn't be trying to compete with me for attention, would you? Did you deliberately bring a fake urn here to make everyone feel sorry for you?"

That offhand remark was as good as a death sentence. The unease in Fiona's eyes vanished, replaced by irritation at the thought that I had tricked her.

She strode toward me, kicked the urn aside, then grabbed me by the throat and slammed my head into the ashes scattered across the floor.

"William! Today, I'm going to make sure you understand one thing! Playing the victim and pretending to be helpless won't get you anywhere with me!" she said menacingly.