Eira ended up not going to the rooftop because as soon as she turned to Liam, he stalked towards her, collected the gun, and handed it to the old woman, who looked at him in surprise while he apologized to her.
The old woman had asked if he knew her, and Liam had told her that she was his patient. After one more apology, he grabbed her and led her out of there. Then, he interrogated her when they got to her room. In conclusion, he had asked her not to mess with just anyone and to exercise patience in such situations.
It was a surprise he didn't ask how she knew how to handle a gun.
"What a pity," Eira sighed as she styled her hair into a high ponytail, strands falling over her face.
She had really wanted to get some fresh air on the rooftop.
"Why are you sighing, dear?" Elma's voice snapped Eira out of her thoughts. "Is everything alright?"
Eira mimicked one of the sweet smiles Ephyra used to give her nanny. "It's nothing. I'm simply going to miss everyone here."
"And why are you saying that like we won't see each other again?" Eira heard Nurse Rain's teasing voice and turned to the door to see her following Liam in.
"Ephyra, here," he stretched out his hand and handed Eira a small bag. "I made sure to collect it from the police before you left."
Hurriedly, she collected the bag, opened it, and took out its contents. There was the school uniform Ephyra had worn on the day of the accident, and beside the uniform were two pieces of paper. One was the letter Ephyra had written to Alan, and the other was Alan's reply, which Eira knew was not written by him.
How did she know? Let's just say Ephyra had seen her stepsister's handwriting before, and the system immediately recognized it.
Myra had done a lot of things, but the first thing she would have to pay for was being one of the causes of Ephyra's death. Alan wasn't exempted either. He may not have participated in Ephyra's death, but he had caused her pain by not trusting her, ignoring her, and insulting her, despite how much she had loved him. So, he was also going to pay.
"Since the police couldn't find the culprit, nor could they find anything related to the accident in your belongings, and since you were adamantly requesting your things… they released them. Happy now?"
Eira glanced at him. "Mm."
"Hey… I'm going to miss you so much," Rain said as she pulled Ephyra into a tight hug.
"Oh!" Eira smiled before hugging her back. "I will miss you too."
"Okay, okay! You're going to be late for school." Eira watched as the nurse hurriedly pulled away and wiped her eyes.
"Doctor Liam, have you called the cab?"
"Yes, they're waiting outside."
"Then let's hurry!" Nurse Rain pulled Ephyra, who barely had time to grab the bag, before leading her outside.
…
They all stood beside the cab as Elma handed over two bags to Ephyra. "Here's your bag, and this is your lunchbox. I prepared it when I went to the mansion this morning. Make sure to eat everything, okay? And don't forget to wear your jacket when you're feeling cold. Also, be careful and—"
"Yes, Nanny, I will do everything you say and look after myself, so don't worry, okay?"
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you…"
"Nanny, what are you saying? Nothing is your fault."
"No, I should have protected you. I shouldn't have told you to be kind to the people who hurt you or to ignore their insults. You shouldn't have to." She tightened her hold on Ephyra and stared into her eyes. "Listen to me, don't ignore or let people insult you. Don't be kind to anyone who hurts you, especially Myra and her mother. Don't let them control you anymore! You have rights, and that's as the true daughter of the Allen family, not as a bastard. D-don't let them take what belongs to you—"
"Nanny Elma, ever since the day I died and came back, I'm no longer the person I used to be. I won't let them insult me, not to mention get away with it. And I won't give anyone what belongs to me. I promise you, so you don't have to worry." She grinned. "Mm?"
"Okay." Then they both turned to Liam, who had been silently watching them.
"Thank you for everything you've done, Sir Liam. I don't know how I could repay you, especially for the hospital bills," Elma continued, her voice filled with genuine gratitude as she looked at Liam.
Liam gave a small, dismissive wave. "It was nothing, Elma. I'm more than happy to have helped." His gaze flicked to Eira. "Take care, Ephyra."
Eira grinned as she opened the car door and waved. "See you later, doctor."
With that, she got in, and the car started, but before it could drive off, she heard Nurse Rain's voice.
"I will call you later! Make sure to pick up my call, okay?" she called out, her voice laced with both sadness and excitement.
Eira leaned out of the window, giving a final wave. "I will! Don't worry!" she promised, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
———
"Wow! I don't think there is any high school in the world as huge and grand as this one," Eira murmured as she looked out the window, her eyes trailing over the extensive building that looked like it had come out of a storybook. The intricate architecture, with towering spires and grand arches, gave the school an almost castle-like appearance. Beautifully manicured gardens surrounded the entrance, and the golden gates at the front gave an air of exclusivity and prestige.
[What did you say the name was again?]
[Master, it's on the gate in front of you, your shirt badge, and in your memory. You just have to—]
[Well, I don't fucking want to, so tell me the name.]
[Okay, Master. The name is St. Aldric's Academy for the Elite.]
Eira scoffed as the words settled in her mind. Elite.
The cab came to a halt at the gates, and she stepped out of the car, swinging the bag carelessly over her shoulder. She took in the grandeur before her. It was hard not to feel small in the face of such a massive, ornate structure. But small wasn't a feeling Eira entertained.
As the car pulled away, she made her way toward the entrance. Students in perfectly tailored uniforms, hair in different styles and shades of colors milled about, chatting and laughing as they began their day. The whispers started as soon as they noticed her, heads turning, eyes following her every move.
"Ephyra Allen's back?" she overheard someone whisper. "I thought she was…?"
"Yeah, me too."
"She looks different…"
"Yeah, she definitely didn't look like someone who almost died."
Was someone who almost died supposed to have a certain look? Fucking dead-brains.
[Master, perhaps they thought you'd return looking fragile or broken, like someone who narrowly escaped death.]
Eira chuckled darkly at the voice in her head, her steps steady as she made her way deeper into the school grounds.
"Is that Ephyra?"
"Huh? What—the dork's back?"
"Do you mean Myra's bastard stepsister?"
"Yeah…"
"She should have just died or not come back here. Seeing her face disgusts me."
"Hahaha, you're right. She looks so stupid sometimes!"
"Duh, you mean all the time?"
Eira's expression didn't change as she walked past the group, their mocking laughter trailing behind her. Before the accident, Ephyra had tolerated their insults, quietly suffering the constant barrage of taunts.
[Master, shall I make a note of their names? You can deal with them later.]
[No need] Eira replied, [They're too insignificant. Not worth my time… yet.]
As she reached the grand entrance of the school, a tall, lean figure appeared in her path. Alan. He stood there, his eyes widening slightly when they met hers. For a moment, neither of them spoke. There was a flicker of emotion in his gaze—perhaps surprise, or guilt—while Eira had to stop herself from rolling her eyes before she turned on her heel and walked away.
This not only surprised Alan but everyone else.
"How unlucky," Eira whispered under her breath as she walked through the hallways towards her class.
Reaching her class which was the Silver Senior class, which came after the Gold Senior class in terms of academics and grandeur, she saw that only a quarter of the class had arrived. Her seat was in the last row, in the far back.
Perfect.
She moved to her seat, sat down, and pulled out her notebook, skimming through its pages.
Fuck! It was still boring as hell.
[Master, that's because you've been reading this book for a week now, and you understand everything in it. You should read some—]
[Shut up.]
Not sooner than a minute more, she was already asleep. But her nap didn't last even five minutes before a loud bang resounded through the room, followed by someone yelling her name.
"Hey! Ephyra! Wake the fuck up, you bitch!"
Trouble starts… and no, she and Lyle haven't met yet. Their meeting is going to be a very special and interesting one. It's also not far ahead :)
Sneak Peak
[What did you say her name was again?]
[Arabella Thorne]
[Are they all so loud and vulgar?]
[No, Master. As you can see, Liam isn’t, but… you are.]
[Don’t you think it’s a pity I can’t hit you?]
The voice grated against Eira's ears, pulling her violently from her half-conscious state.
Eira slowly lifted her head, her indifferent eyes locking onto the cold brown ones of the girl in front of her.
The now half-full class turned their attention to the scene. Whispers buzzed as they watched in anticipation.
"You bastard bitch! How dare you insult Alan? You ignored him in front of the whole school. Did the accident make you go fucking crazy?! Who the hell do you think you are to disregard him?"
The girl snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "You are nothing, nothing but filth who lives off others. Filth like you doesn't get to stare at, stand together with, talk to, ignore, or insult him. Do you understand?!"
While the girl in front of her continued yelling, Eira just stared at her. The girl had a heart-shaped face with a prominent jawline, arched brows, almond-shaped eyes accentuated with dramatic winged eyeliner, full lips covered in nude lipstick, and a straight nose. Her black hair was styled into a high ponytail, pulled too tightly, with the wavy ends bouncing with her movements.
A typical high school mean girl with an exaggerated sense of self-importance.
[With a crush on Alan, Master.]
Right.
The girl continued, not knowing that her words went in one ear and out the other. "You may be his fiancée, but it's only in name. You don't have the right to do anything—"
"Miss Thorne," the teacher interrupted. "Please leave my class, would you? It's starting now."
Glaring hatefully at Eira, she reluctantly turned around and walked to the door.
"Also, please refrain from causing a scene next time, Miss Thorne."
The girl paused at the door, her hand tightening around the handle. Her jaw clenched as she shot one final venomous look toward Eira before stepping out, slamming the door behind her.
Eira remained unfazed, her expression unconcerned as she turned her attention back to the teacher. The classroom, now quieter but still buzzing with murmurs, barely focused on the lesson.
Unbothered by the attention, Eira leaned back in her chair.
[What did you say her name was again?]
[Arabella Thorne.]
[Are they all this loud and vulgar?]
[No, Master. As you can see, Liam isn't, but... you are.]
[Don't you think it's a pity I can't hit you?]
[Not at all, Master—uhh, I mean, I'm sorry, Master.]
At that moment, two girls walked into the classroom. One was tall with raven-black hair in a half-up, half-down style, extremely fair skin, and smoky makeup on her face accentuated by the dark choker and see-through, knee-length dark socks she wore. While the other was short, with brown, voluminous curls and caramel skin. She only wore lip gloss and eyeliner and a brown jacket over her white shirt which was untucked and almost covered her skirt.
[Master! Those are the Dellinger siblings. Their mother, the second daughter of the main branch, is the current CEO of Dellinger Media Company, one of the best film companies in the world.]
[Malia and Orla Dellinger.]
[Yes, Master. But how come you remember their names and not—]
[The short one is Malia, and the tall one is Orla, right?]
[Yes, Master.]
Eira watched the siblings take their seats without caring if they were late or not, especially Malia, who was animatedly describing something to her sister.
[Good. Now we just have to wait.]
The first class started and finished half an hour later, and the second class began ten minutes after. That class also took thirty minutes to end, and finally, the physical class for all junior and senior students started.
As the students filed out of the classroom and headed toward the field, Eira remained seated, her gaze lingering on the shifting crowd until it was just her in the class.
She stood up and walked to the window, waiting. Finally, her dearest stepsister and her dimwitted lackeys came into view.
[It's time to act.]
[Wishing you luck, Master.]
Eira breathed in, and in the next moment, her expression shifted into the nervous and hopeful one Ephyra used to wear.
She walked out of the class, stopped a step behind Myra, and called out, "Myra?"
Myra's head snapped around at the sound of her name, her surprised expression immediately turning into a hostile one as she turned to face Eira. Her lackeys' eyes narrowed in unison as they spotted her.
"What do you want?" Myra's voice was sharp, cold, and more grating than Arabella's.
Eira forced a small, uncertain smile, her hands nervously pulling her shirt, playing the part perfectly. Her once indifferent gaze was now softened, the same hopeful look that Ephyra used to wear back when she still tried to reach out to her stepsister.
"I-I just wanted to talk. I thought maybe we could..." Eira's voice trailed off. Her gaze flickered down to the ground, as though she were unsure of herself, vulnerable.
Myra's eyes flicked over her, suspicious and angered. "Talk? About what?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Myra always enjoyed watching Ephyra grovel or look weak. It fed her sense of power.
So what if the dummy didn't die? She would always be beneath her.
Eira took a small step forward, keeping her shoulders hunched, as if trying to make herself seem smaller, more vulnerable. "I just… there's something I need to talk to you about, alone. Can we talk in the locker room?"
Myra laughed and took a step forward. "It seems that after hitting your head, you've gone foolish. You want to talk to me alone? And why should I answer? Besides, you didn't ask properly."
Eira's forced smile faltered, her expression crumpling into one of desperation, perfectly mirroring the vulnerable demeanor Ephyra once had. She took another shaky breath, as though gathering the courage to continue.
"I know we haven't... had the best relationship," she began softly, her voice trembling. "But I want to fix it. Please, Myra."
"You always were pathetic," Myra sneered, stepping even closer. "And now, you're even worse. What makes you think you deserve my time, huh?"
Eira hesitated, glancing down again, as though ashamed. She shuffled nervously on her feet, giving Myra exactly what she wanted—a sign of submission.
"I... I just want to make things right," Eira whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please, Myra. I'm sure you will be interested in what I want to tell you."
Myra's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Fine," she said with a flick of her hand, dismissing her lackeys, who glared at Ephyra before leaving. "Let's go to the locker room. You've got five minutes to grovel properly."
With that, she turned on her heel, leading the way. Eira trailed behind, her steps hesitant, eyes downcast. But the moment Myra was ahead of her, her nervous facade shifted, the barest hint of a satisfied smirk flickering across her face.
[Master, they are all out of the locker room and heading to the field.]
[Mm.]
They reached the locker room, the door creaking as Myra pushed it open. Once inside, Myra leaned against the row of lockers, crossing her arms impatiently.
"Alright, you've got your chance," Myra said, tapping her foot. "Get to it."
Eira closed the door before standing near the center of the room, her bag still clutched in her hands. She looked around nervously before locking eyes with Myra.
"Why do you hate me so much, Myra?" she asked, her voice still soft but with an edge of something sharper, something that made Myra blink in confusion.
Myra scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Is this really what you dragged me here for? To ask some stupid question?"
Eira tilted her head, her expression shifting again—this time, the nervousness was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating look that Myra hadn't seen before.
"It's not a stupid question. I really want to know."
Myra's eyes narrowed. "What the hell is this? What are you playing at?"
Eira took a slow step forward, her eyes locking onto Myra's. "I'm not playing. I want to know why you fucking hate me so much when I should be the one hating you."
"I should hate you because your slut of a mother seduced a grief-stricken man and had sex with him. I should hate you because not even six months after my mother's death, another woman came into my house with a bastard daughter. I should hate you because you took everything from me—my father's love, my fiancé, my identity, my dignity—and then you tried to take my life. I shouldn't just hate you. I should kill you if I could. So tell me, why? Why the hell do you hate me when it should be the other way around?"
Myra's face twisted in shock, her usual smug expression replaced by confusion and, for the first time, a hint of fear. She hadn't expected this—hadn't expected Ephyra to say those things with such anger.
"W-What the hell are you talking about? Are you crazy?!" She walked towards Ephyra and swung her arm violently. "How dare you lie and talk about my mother and me that way?! What gave you the fucking right?!"
A loud slap echoed through the locker room as Myra's hand made harsh contact with Eira's face. The force of the hit sent a sting through Eira's cheek, her head snapping slightly to the side, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she slowly turned her head back to Myra, her cold gaze locking onto her stepsister's face.
For a moment, there was silence. Myra stood there, breathing heavily, her hand still raised as if ready to strike again.
Eira's lips curved into the faintest of smiles—not the desperate one she had forced earlier, but something much darker, a smile that sent a chill down Myra's spine. "You think you can keep hitting me, and I'll just stand here and take it forever?"
Before Myra could respond, Eira stepped forward, closing the distance between them. The intensity of her presence made Myra instinctively step back, but Eira caught her arm, twisting it behind her mercilessly. Myra's shrill scream echoed through the room.
[Master, they're already coming back.]
"You spent your whole life making sure I stayed beneath you, tearing me apart piece by piece. But now it's my turn," Eira whispered, her lips near Myra's ear. "You made a mistake, Myra. You should've prayed that I died that night."
Myra, sobbing from the pain, didn't register her words and continued pleading with Eira to let her go.
[Master, they're almost here.]
As soon as Eira heard that, she let go of Myra, slapped herself, and threw herself to the floor, scraping her knee and palm in the process.
[Did you start recording?]
[Yes, Master.]
With Myra holding her hand, staring down at Eira, whose face was red, lips bleeding, and both her knee and palm injured, the locker room door slammed open. Several students rushed in, including Malia and Orla Dellinger. They froze at the scene before them—Eira on the floor, bleeding and disheveled, while Myra stood above her, hand still raised, looking both shocked and alarmed.
"What the hell happened here?" one of the girls from Alan's class asked, stepping forward with a sharp gaze on Myra.
"Are you supposed to be asking me that?!" Myra snapped, suprising everyone, as she always acted kind. "What do you think happened? This bitch begged me to come with her to the locker room, saying she had something to tell me, and then she started insulting my mother and broke my arm, that's what—"
She was cut off by the quiet sobs coming from Eira before she exploded.
"You're fucking crying?! You bastard! After breaking my arm, you're now crying?!"
"Myra, you've said your piece. Let's hear what Ephyra has to say," the girl from Alan's class interjected, her tone firm. She turned to Eira and asked softly, "What happened?"
Eira sniffled, wiped her tears, and tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing a very red cheek that could only have been caused by a slap.
"I... I wanted to talk to Myra, to sort things out. So I invited her to the locker room so we could talk alone. I wanted to tell her that I would break off my engagement with Alan, for her. B-but... suddenly, she started hitting me. I don't even know why... I never insulted her or her mother," Eira whimpered, her voice trembling as she curled into herself on the floor.
The crowd of students gathered closer, their eyes darting between the two sisters. Whispers surged through the room, each one more damning than the last.
"She broke her arm?" one girl murmured incredulously.
"Wow, this is just… I mean, didn't she just get discharged?"
"Yeah, so what?"
"Where would she get the strength to do that?!"
"So Myra's lying, and Ephyra is telling the truth?"
"That's unbelievable. Isn't Ephyra the bastard?"
"And how does that matter?"
"Besides, take a look at Ephyra's face! Who else, if not Myra, did that?"
One of Eira's classmates, who had been watching silently, finally spoke. "Why would Ephyra want to insult you, Myra? She's been quiet ever since... the accident," she said sharply. "And look at her. She's clearly the one who was attacked."
Myra's face flushed with anger and desperation as her good-girl facade disappeared. "Shut the fuck up! I'm telling the truth! She twisted my arm! She's not innocent! She—" Myra stammered, but her confidence faltered under the growing judgment in the room. Cold, hard stares from her peers pierced through her.
The stares drove Myra forward, and she lifted her supposedly broken arm, but it didn't land as a senior caught her hand.
"Myra, didn't you say your arm was broken? If it was broken, you shouldn't be able to lift it."
Myra didn't understand what she meant at first, her eyes darting between the senior and her own hand.
"What the hell are you—" Her eyes widened as she realized her mistake. She tried to pull away, but it was too late. The students around them had already noticed, their attention fixed on Myra's raised arm—the arm she had claimed was broken. Gasps rippled through the crowd as they watched her try to yank her hand away.
"Myra," one girl whispered, her voice heavy with shock. "You said your arm was broken..."
The murmurs grew louder, and Myra's face twisted in panic. "N-No, you don't understand! She did hurt me! I just..."
The senior released Myra's hand. "I think we all know who's lying here."
The students continued whispering, enjoying the unexpected turn of events. For some of them, watching this was fun; others stayed because they were intrigued and wanted to see how it would end.
Myra Allen, the legitimate daughter, wasn't what they thought she was.
Some of them had pulled out their phone, wanting to capture and share it to the whole school.
Rich, spoiled teenagers like them always wanted to have fun or see something interesting. And a drama like this embodied both, so of course, they stayed to watch until the end and share it to everyone they could. They didn't care who was right or wrong; they only supported the winning side.
And Eira, who remained curled on the floor, looking small and vulnerable, was the winning side.
"Come on, let's take you to the nurse," the senior said, helping Eira up and leading her towards the door.
But before she left, Eira stopped and spoke, her voice soft but steady. "I... I never wanted any of this." She wiped her tear-streaked face, her eyes red and pained. "All I wanted was to fix things between us. Like with Alan, I just wanted someone who wouldn't hate me. That's why I sent that letter. But you misunderstood and thought I wanted to take him away from you. That's why you hired those thugs the day of my accident, told them to hit me, and then came to insult and threaten me. Maybe, just maybe if you hadn't done that, I wouldn't have gotten into the accident."
"Even after everything, I didn't hate you, and I never will. But I'm giving up. I won't try to plead with you anymore or try to please you. I don't want us to be sisters anymore. Even strangers treat each other better than how you treat me and I would be crazy to continue trying to repair something that was never real."
With that, she loosened her grip on the letter, letting it fall to the floor, and turned to the senior helping her. "Let's go."
"Alright," the senior nodded and led her out.
Soon, everyone left one after the other. The Dellinger sisters followed suit, but Orla suddenly stopped, bent down, and picked up the letter she'd stepped on.
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