Afton Family Deaths

My mom is a retired supermodel. She's added a monitor to the weight scales at home so that she can monitor my and my sister, Abigail Teller's perfect body weight. If my data goes up by 0.1%, Mom will ban me from eating for the next three days. But the thing is, Abigail keeps eating fried chicken every day, yet her monitor's light is always green. Mom claims that Abigail's still going through puberty. I defend myself, saying that I've gained weight because of the bloating caused by my period. As Mom points at the red light emitted by my monitor, she exclaims, "The data is never wrong! If you've gained weight, that means you've been snacking far too much!" After getting punished many times, I begin believing that being fat is a sin. On the night of my 20th birthday, the long-term diet I've been placed on has triggered my kidney failure, which causes me to bloat up everywhere. I kneel on the floor and plead to Mom that I'm seriously ill. But that's when the monitor lets out a shrill alarm. When Mom sees the 5% increase in my body fat data, she puts me through a devillish punishment. I can feel the electric currents jolting through my body. "It's bad enough that you've secretly snacked on cake, but to even lie in my face about your illness? I'd like to see how long you can stay stubborn for!" Having said her piece, Mom locks the door and takes Abigail out to celebrate her birthday. I guess Mom is correct. Monitors never lie. I'm the one who's at the wrong for being a glutton. That's why I've transformed into a monster who doesn't deserve any love at all. I'm sorry, Mom. I'll only drink water in my next life.

My mother was once adored and protected by three men. As such, I had three fathers. After her death, I was raised by one of the greatest doctors, the richest man in Theala, and an award-winning actor. For 13 years, I was showered with overwhelming adoration. That was until three years ago—the day they adopted Erin, an orphan girl. From then on, they began to dote on her. When she accused me of stealing her necklace, they tore my room apart in their search, smashing my most cherished music box in the process. They only felt remorse when they saw me sobbing over the shards. As compensation, they bought me every music box they could find. When she claimed I mocked her for being an orphan, they forced me to write a hundred apology letters as punishment. They only massaged my hands in remorse upon seeing them trembling so badly that I could no longer feed myself. When Erin accused me of shredding her gown, they locked me in the dark basement, starving me for three whole days. When I was let out, they were filled with remorse upon realizing how much weight I had lost. Their bloodshot eyes watched over the grand feast they prepared as an apology. All of that lasted until Erin poisoned my cup of water. I kept coughing up blood as my body grew weaker by the day. Daniel only diagnosed me with malnutrition and made me take prescribed supplements. Unbeknownst to him, those supplements only hastened the poison's effects. After I collapsed at school, I went to the hospital for treatment. "You only have three days left to live," the doctor said. Why then… Why did my fathers drown themselves in sorrow and kill Erin after my death?

My younger sister and I were born twins, yet from the very beginning, our parents had zero fondness for me. My sister was the family's good-luck charm, while I was hailed as the harbinger of misfortune. I was blamed for every calamity, while she got all the credit for every blessing. Even after my death, I heard them say, "If we had abandoned her at birth, or even ended her life then, none of this would have happened." I had once tried desperately to win their approval, only to be met with cold indifference. When I finally secured a coveted civil service post, they celebrated me for the first time in my life. I naively believed that I had been acknowledged at last. But then, they said, "Give your job to your sister. She needs it more." At that moment, something inside me completely died. I tried so hard to cling to the hard-won proof that I was not the family's misfortune, yet even that slipped through my grasp. In the end, I lost everything, even the life they had never once cherished.

I was separated from my family at a young age and was adopted by my adoptive parents, who treated me very well. The day I turned eighteen and became an adult, my biological parents called me and begged me to meet them. Even though I had not seen them for years, I decided to fly to the city where they lived for a meetup. On the day I arrived, I shopped for gifts to give them as a gesture of goodwill, all while waiting for my biological brother to come and pick me up. When I finally picked up the gifts, a young woman decided to take them for herself. “I want the smoking pipe, the tie, and the necklace she’s holding!” She signaled to the shop assistant with a quirk of her lips, and the latter snatched the gift boxes from me. “Hey, I saw them first!” I was furious, but she looked me up and down with a sneer. “All these items are from the most expensive brands in the store. They cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Can a penniless loser like you afford them? “I am the daughter of the Ferrero family. My older brother is the heir of the Roccia Gang, the city's most powerful gang. Over here, no one dares fight me over things I’ve set my eyes on.” ‘Ferrero? Isn’t that my biological family?’ I thought. As it turned out, she was the girl my parents had adopted after they lost me. I raised an eyebrow and called my older brother, who was coming to pick me up. “Hey, your adopted sister snatched the gifts I bought for you all. What’re you going to do about it?”

When my parents got old, they needed someone to take care of them. Katerina—my younger sister—was off to Amiraka with her smug husband Chris. Meanwhile, I was crammed into a two-bedroom in Bellavaro with my husband Pavel, who drove a taxi. Mom had no retirement savings, so guess who she dumped herself on? Yep—me. Dad took the cash and ran straight to Katerina. Our place was tiny, but we still gave Mom the master bedroom. She hated it. Constant complaints, constant drama. According to her, life with me was pure misery. Every night, she'd hop on video call with Katerina, gushing about Amiraka like it was heaven, while throwing shade at me for not "taking care of her properly." Meanwhile, I was drowning—trying to hold it together for Mom, help my daughter prep for exams, support a husband with spine problems, and check in on aging in-laws. Mom didn't care. She wanted a plane ticket to Amiraka to party for Katerina's birthday. I snapped. We had a blowout fight, and she collapsed—brain hemorrhage. Even in her hospital bed, she stared me down, whining Katerina's name like a broken record. Then she spat out, "I should've never picked a useless daughter like you!" My chest cracked in half. I blacked out. When I woke up—I was ten years younger. Back to the day they decided who'd get stuck taking care of them. This time, Mom didn't wait. "I want Katerina to take care of me. It's my turn to enjoy life!"

They caught my fiancé with my sister on the night of our engagement party. Tangled in a private wine cellar. My family name was dragged through the mud. We became the laughingstock of the Chicago Outfit. Then came Don Lorenzo Falcone. He proposed in front of all the Families, saving my honor and forging a more powerful alliance. For four years, he put me on a pedestal. But an old injury left him unable to father an heir. This year, through the family’s private doctor, I finally got pregnant. After that, his devotion became absolute. I thought this powerful man was my savior. My only protector. Until I heard him talking to his right-hand man. “Boss, Arabella worships you. How could you do it? You had the doctor switch the vials, made Arabella the surrogate for the Moretti heir. Just 'cause Isabella couldn't handle the pain? The kid’s due in two months. What’s the plan?” He was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was ice. “When the child is born, it goes to Isabella. It's the only thing that guarantees her future with the Morettis.” “And Arabella?” “I’ll tell her the baby didn’t make it.” “She’ll still be Mrs. Falcone. She’ll have everything she could ever want.” So that was it. My great protector. All of it… for another woman. This tainted bloodline? I don’t want it in me. And this sham of a marriage? I’m done.

The day of my wedding photoshoot, my family's adoptive daughter tugs my veil off and asks loudly, "Aren't you our family's adoptive daughter? What are you doing here? Today's the day Ian and I are supposed to have our wedding photoshoot. Aren't you going to disgrace Ford Group by being here?" In the past, I would've run away in tears. Unfortunately for her, I'd been reborn. I slapped Aspen Miller and retorted, "What right do you have to speak to me? Who do you think you are, having a wedding photoshoot with Adrian? Are you worthy of being associated with Ford Group?"

My name is Lyra. For eighteen years, the Silvermane Pack was my home, but it was never my family. The night my only friend, Selene, chose to end her life—to Eclipse—was the night I decided to leave. She showed me that escape was possible, even if it meant walking away from everything I knew. The Alpha and Luna who raised me, and my so-called brothers, made it clear I didn't belong. Their love was always conditional, reserved for my "true-born" sister, Lillian, found just a year ago. On my forgotten birthday, I declared my own Eclipse. I am returning to my real family, the Blood-Claws. But leaving has a price. A primordial terror stirs in the darkness, threatening to devour everyone I leave behind. They think I'm running away. They have no idea what I'm really walking into, or what I must become to save them all.

When I was in the early stages of brain cancer, my parents begged me to give my sister one of my kidneys. They also told me to give them the money I had saved for my treatment. When my sister left the hospital, it was her birthday. My parents threw her a party while I lay in a hospital bed trying to get better. Later, when my mom found out I had late-stage brain cancer, she begged my sister to give me a kidney. My sister said no. So, on the day of my funeral, my mom buried both of her kidneys with me.

The kindergarten was engulfed in flames. My four-year-old daughter was trapped inside. I pleaded desperately with my firefighter husband, "Nina is upstairs!" He snapped impatiently, "You're just trying to stop me from saving Dana's daughter. How could you be so cruel? Dana is fragile. If she loses her child, it will destroy her. She won't survive this." That night, he emerged from the fire carrying Dana's daughter, instantly becoming a hero. Even at midnight, when I wept by the side of our daughter's ashes, he was still with Dana. "Samuel Leif, you'll pay for this!"