To them, Olivia was the sweet, innocent little princess everyone adored.
They didn’t know she had smashed my father’s most prized collectible, injected glue into my mother’s skincare, and keyed my brother’s new car—
Then turned around and blamed it all on me.
She tore up my homework, jabbed holes in my skin with a compass, and led classmates to corner and humiliate me in the restroom.
I had explained, cried, and raged.
All I ever got in return was harsher scolding and deeper disgust.
I began to doubt myself—maybe I really wasn’t good enough, maybe that’s why they didn’t like me.
I reflected, tried harder to please every single one of them, even Olivia, who had harmed me countless times.
But in their eyes, my efforts looked like guilt after doing something wrong.
That only encouraged Olivia to torment me even more.
Even after I was forced to move out of the Bennett home, she didn’t let me go.
She came to my apartment, cursed and beat me, then, her face twisted with malice, lit the place on fire.
“Only when you’re dead will Mom, Dad, Ethan, and the title of Bennett heiress truly belong to me!”
Once again, the agony of the flames and the despair of dying engulfed me.