Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Emily stayed calm as she plucked glass fragments from her palm before binding the wound with a strip of cloth. Her practiced movements suggested this wasn’t her first time tending to injuries.
She hated staying at the Bennett residence more each day, but Charles insisted she remain here, and her empty pockets left her no choice. Walking out now meant sleeping on the streets.
Her plan took shape with cold determination-she would escape the Bennett family and learn to support herself, beginning with the urgent task of securing employment.
The first eighteen years of her life had been filled with the Bennetts’ love. Then Lydia returned, leading to two years of futile attempts to regain their affection, followed by two harsh years at St. Gabriel Reform Academy.
Painting remained her only marketable skill. It had been her passion since childhood, and she’d even attended art school briefly, though she never completed her degree.
Now, those painting skills would have to be her salvation.
She needed supplies, but refused to use anything provided by the Bennetts. She couldn’t endure another minute in this oppressive environment.
Thankfully, she still had one unused set of painting tools. It was a gift from the first person who’d befriended her without knowing she was a Bennett heiress. For the first time, something in her life was truly hers, completely separate from that family.
Emily spent the night locked in her room, unwilling to face the others. It wasn’t until daybreak that she finally emerged.
Her former bedroom had been completely transformed into Lydia’s personal dressing room. The servants had packed up all of Emily’s possessions and dumped them in the villa’s back storage area.
The storage room was vast and crammed with boxes. Emily searched for what felt like ages before locating her things.
The contents that had once filled an entire bedroom now barely occupied a single cardboard box-just some worn clothes and random trinkets.
The servant accompanying her shifted uncomfortably. “Ms. Bennett said your belongings brought back difficult memories,” she explained awkwardly. “So Mrs. Bennett wanted everything thrown away. Only these few items were saved.”
Emily showed no reaction. She pushed aside the meaningless clutter and dug straight to the bottom, retrieving her precious art case. Though dented at one corner, it remained otherwise unharmed.
This was the only item in the box that held any real value to her. Emily’s brow furrowed as she realized something was missing-her sketchbook should have been there too.
She remembered packing that sketchbook, filled with drawings she’d painstakingly created as a gift for the friend who had given her the art set. But she’d been sent to St. Gabriel’s before she could finish it.
Convinced it must have been misplaced, Emily spent hours combing through the storage room. The servant could offer no help. In the end, Emily walked away empty-handed, a dull ache of disappointment settling in her chest.
Two years of silence had passed, and Emily wondered if her friend had forgotten her entirely. The thought brought a pang of sadness, but she knew survival couldn’t wait for sentimentality.
She carefully packed the art supplies away. After her daily hospital visit to see Charles, she began her job search.
With no computer access or work experience, opportunities were scarce. By day’s end, she’d secured a position in a
restaurant kitchen.
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Chapter 28
The monthly salary barely covered what she used to spend on a single meal, yet she felt nothing but gratitude now.
The job provided three meals daily, freeing her from scavenging leftovers in the Bennetts’ kitchen. She still lacked proper housing, but at least she’d escaped their constant scrutiny.
+20
The kitchen work was brutal. During the dinner rush, blistering oil seared her arms while the sweltering heat pressed down like a weight. But Emily welcomed it-each burn proved she was still alive.
After
years of torment, this honest suffering felt like freedom.