I clung to the doorframe, refusing to let go.
Her patience quickly ran out.
"Slap—"
The first slap landed.
Before I could react.
The second one landed.
My face burned with pain.
But I didn't even dare to cry.
She stared at me.
Her eyes held no emotion a mother should have.
Only disgust.
"Valentina," her voice was as cold as a knife, "you dare disobey me now?"
"If you don't behave, I'll throw you out of the manor."
At that moment, I truly believed it.
She could do it.
That night.
I huddled in a corner of the basement.
Damp, cold, and dark.
I covered my mouth, afraid to cry out.
Upstairs, I heard the sounds of guns being disassembled and assembled, and men talking in hushed tones.
The family world continued to function.
But it had nothing to do with me.
The next day, she saw my swollen, red eyes.
She said nothing.
As if she'd seen something insignificant.
From that moment on, I understood.
She truly hated me.
I came to my senses.
I felt a sharp pain in my chest.
Like it was belated.
And final.
Seraphina took a certificate from her pocket.
She smiled, pure and proud.
“Aunt Gianna, look, I got first place.”
My mother took it.
The light in her eyes was gentle yet blinding.
She bent down and kissed her on the cheek.