She covered her arm and hissed.
Andrew nervously stared at the thin scratch left by the broken porcelain. His face darkened, furious.
"I knew you were such an ungrateful person, rotten to the core. What kind of upbringing could you possibly have?"
"You lose control over the smallest thing. You’re not even as good as a strand of Emily’s hair. I’m glad I left you out all these years. If you’d been married into the Walker family, your behavior would have been enough to make your parents shudder."
Her words cut like a barbed whip, ripping open wounds that had scabbed countless times, blood-soaked and draining every last piece of strength.
Emily stepped forward and grabbed my arm, crying pitifully, "Sister, if you’re angry, hit me. Don’t argue with me."
Her fingertips dug into my wounds, and I instinctively flinched.
She screamed, collapsing heavily despite her slight frame.
Andrew’s slap came down hard.
My head tilted from the blow, a buzzing filling my vision. Through the scattered hair, I saw his eyes, cold and almost murderous. "For a piece of torn clothing, you dare do this to your sister? Apologize to Emily immediately, otherwise—"