That night, I had just finished bathing when there was a sudden knock on the door.
I tensed up immediately.
I was terrified that the door would burst open any second and a few leering men would barge in.
"Chloe, open the door."
Dylan's tone grew impatient.
I quickly grabbed a blanket and wrapped it tightly around myself.
I opened the door and immediately apologized, "I'm sorry. I was in the shower and didn't hear you. Please don't be mad. Don't make me leave."
Dylan's face darkened instantly.
"From now on, you're still the lady of the Phillips family. No one will kick you out again."
I thought I saw a flicker of pity in his eyes.
I must have been mistaken. How could he possibly pity me?
If he hadn't given his approval to my aunt and cousin, how else could I have endured three years of living hell?
Dylan handed me a paper bag.
"In two days, it's Dad's birthday banquet. Mind your manners."
Inside the bag, there was a brand-new evening dress, a pair of matching high heels, and a tube of ointment for injuries.
Seeing these items, a wave of bitterness surged in my heart.
He knew my leg was crippled, yet he still sent high heels and medicine. Was he trying to humiliate me?