Chapter 4: The Truth That Broke the House

When I returned home, Grandma Carol had already heard about my aunt falling into the water. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

She immediately had the maids drag me to kneel at my aunt’s bedside to apologize. Savannah lay in bed, pale and trembling, looking every bit the victim.

Grandma cradled her daughter, fussing over her like a doting mother. The sight made something twist inside me, sharp and bitter.

Then she turned to me, her voice harsh, her gaze accusing. “How did you look after your aunt?”

If they want to blame me, they’ll always find a reason. I could have saved the world and still been the villain here.

Whether I pushed Savannah or not, as long as I was there, I couldn’t escape the blame. It was just how things worked in this house.

I was about to speak when my aunt cut me off. The room seemed to freeze.

She sat up, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Her voice was soft, but every word was a dagger.

She clung to Grandma’s sleeve, coughing a few times. Her words were barely above a whisper. “Mother, she’s the one who pushed me into the water.”

“Autumn has no respect for her elders. You can’t let her off.” The performance was flawless. Savannah always knew how to put on a show.

Savannah stared at me like a snake lurking in wet grass. Her eyes were cold, calculating.

At her words, Grandma raised her cane and slammed it down on my back. The crack echoed in the room, and I saw stars.

The pain made me collapse to the floor, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. My hands shook. I tried to breathe through it, clenching my jaw so I wouldn’t cry out.

When I was little, I read stories about close grandparent-grandchild bonds and envied them. I’d picture grandmas baking cookies and reading stories, and wonder what it would feel like to have that.

I never understood why my own grandma was so cold to me. I always felt like the one who didn’t belong.

I wondered if maybe I just wasn’t good enough. I kept thinking if I tried harder, maybe she’d love me too.

Turns out, some people are just biased. It’s not about what you do or who you are. Sometimes, it’s just the way things are.

Grandma’s voice was icy, her eyes full of disgust. Her face twisted with anger. “What a disgrace. How could the Brooks family produce such an ungrateful, disrespectful child?”

“Someone, bring the family rulebook.” The command rang out, and everyone jumped to obey.

A maid scurried from the room, returning with a heavy leather-bound rulebook. The sight of it made my stomach churn. I knew what was coming next.

“You brat, if I don’t punish you properly in front of the family portraits today, you’ll bring disaster on the Brooks family sooner or later.” Her voice trembled with fury.

I forced myself upright through the pain. Her eyes were hard as stone, but I looked at her anyway, still hoping for a miracle.

“Grandma, there’s something important I haven’t had a chance to report to you yet.” My voice was steady, even as my hands shook.

“Shut up, you brat! Careful or I’ll shut that mouth of yours!” The threat was sharp, and Savannah was ready to pounce.

A flicker of doubt crossed Grandma’s face, and she stopped my aunt with a word. For the first time, she looked at me as if she might actually listen.

I looked her in the eye and continued. The room was silent, everyone waiting for my next words.

Grandma stared at me coldly for a moment, then dismissed the maids. Only the three of us remained.

“Today, Aunt Savannah fell into the water and the doctor diagnosed her as pregnant.” The words dropped like a bomb.

My words were like thunder out of a clear sky, stunning Grandma. She stared at me, speechless.

“Lies! Nonsense!” Grandma shouted. Her voice cracked, shrill with disbelief.

She turned to her daughter. My aunt’s face was ashen, her eyes darting away. Savannah refused to meet her gaze.

After a long silence, Grandma asked in a low whisper, “Whose child is it?”

Savannah burst into tears, throwing herself into Grandma’s arms. Her sobs were loud, dramatic.

After a while, she stammered, “It—it’s the Whitmore heir’s.” The confession hung in the air.

The confession hung in the air, heavy and final. I watched Grandma’s face crumple, the weight of the truth settling on her shoulders. For the first time, I felt like I might finally have a chance to break free.

Either way, the house would never be the same.