All Chapters of The Revenge of One Humiliated: Chapter 1 - Chapter 6

ÉlianorThe mirror in the entrance is my first enemy of the day. I look down too late. I have already seen the shapeless mass, the too-round face, the beige sweater that clings in all the places I wish to hide. I am seventeen, and my reflection is that of a shadow, thick and ill-defined.A grunt behind me.— You're blocking the way, Élianor. We can't even move around our own house because of you.My sister Liora's voice is a cleaver. She slips in front of me, thin and mean like a snake, her athlete's body gliding through the space effortlessly. Her gaze scorns me, a grimace of disgust on her lips.— Really, try to stand up straight. You look like a sack of potatoes. And that sweater… what is it supposed to hide, exactly? The shame?I grit my teeth, my heart pounding. Each word is a sting, precise and familiar. I press against the wall, the cold paint through the fabric, wishing I could disappear into the flowers of the wallpaper. I am at home, yet I feel out of place. A cumbersome pie

ÉlianorI run, blinded by tears. The laughter from the cafeteria follows me, mingling with the frantic beating of my heart and the sound of my heavy steps on the sidewalk. I don't know where I'm going. Far. Just far from these grimacing faces, from this institutionalized cruelty. I finally rush into the small public park on the edge of the city, a deserted place at this hour of class. I huddle on a bench at the back, hidden by a thicket of laurel. My body shakes with silent sobs, gasps that tear at my chest. Shame is an acid that eats away at everything inside.— Élianor?The voice is soft, masculine. I lift my head, frightened, expecting a new mockery. But it’s not a harasser. It’s Raphaël.Raphaël de Saint-Clair. The boy whose mere presence in a hallway makes every heart race, including mine, secretly, with the painful certainty of its impossibility. He stands there, his chestnut hair tousled by the wind, his striking green eyes fixed on me with a concern that seems sincere. He is e

ÉlianorToday, I am eighteen. A birthday that, under any other circumstances, would have gone unnoticed, drowned in jibes and general indifference. But this year, everything is different. This year, there is Raphaël.The last two weeks have been a perverse fairy tale. His persistent courtship has not waned; it has intensified. Every glance, every whispered word, every furtive touch has woven around me a cocoon of hope. The kiss at the old mill changed everything. Since then, a palpable anticipation vibrates between us. He talks to me about a "surprise" for my birthday, something "special," that will show everyone what I am truly worth. His eyes sparkle with a mysterious excitement that drives me mad with impatience.— Trust me, Élianor. Today, everything will change.All day at school, I am on pins and needles. I catch sidelong smiles, whispers that I can no longer interpret as malice. Perhaps it is curiosity? Envy? Even Liora herself shoots me daggers, but her disdain seems tinged wi