Chapter 3

Apparently, miracles do happen.

After working at the electronics factory for half a year, Damian caught the eye of the boss's daughter.

The boss's daughter was named Vivian, five years younger than Damian, fresh out of college, sent by her father to learn management at the factory.

Supposedly, the moment she saw Damian, she couldn't look away.

Fine, I'll admit—Damian was good-looking. Even I couldn't deny it.

Despite being malnourished, despite always looking exhausted, he'd inherited all of our parents' best features: deep eyes, a straight nose, and when he was quiet, a kind of broken beauty.

Vivian pursued him so openly that the whole factory knew.

She brought him meals, medicine, even kept him company when he worked late.

His coworkers all urged him: "Damian, just say yes! That's the boss's daughter! You'd skip twenty years of struggle!"

Damian always shook his head. "I'm not worthy."

Until Vivian's father—Mr. Palmer himself—came to talk to him.

Damian came home very late that night and sat in the dark living room, smoking cigarette after cigarette.

He never usually smoked.

"What's wrong?" I couldn't help asking.

He stubbed out his cigarette, his voice dry:

"Mr. Palmer...knows I was in prison."

My heart sank.

Of course. The background check came through.

That was it. He'd lose his job. We couldn't stay in this city anymore.

"He asked me about what happened back then," Damian continued. "I told him everything."

I closed my eyes in despair. "And then?"

"And then..." Damian looked up, his eyes strangely bright in the darkness. "He said next month has an auspicious date, and asked if I wanted a traditional or Western-style wedding."

I was stunned.

He must be crazy.

I thought.

Mr. Palmer must be insane to want a murderer for a son-in-law.

But good for him being crazy.

I also thought.

After all, the Palmer family was truly wealthy.

Who wouldn't want to latch onto a family like theirs?

The wedding was simple, just ten tables set up in the factory cafeteria.

Damian wore a rented suit, looking like a puppet.

Vivian wore a white wedding dress, smiling sweetly.

During the toast, she walked up to me, her expression complicated.

"You're Claire, right?" She raised her glass. "We're family now."

I raised my soda without saying anything.

She smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.

On their wedding night, Damian moved into the Palmer family's two-story house.

I stayed in the rental apartment, thinking I could finally have some peace.

The next morning, Damian came to get me.

"Pack your things. You're moving in."

"I'm not going."

"Claire," for the first time, he used such a firm tone. "You have to."

"Why? Vivian obviously doesn't like me!"

"Because you're my sister," Damian looked at me, his eyes suddenly reddening. "You're my only family left in this world, Claire. I can't leave you behind."

In the end, I moved in.

Vivian prepared a room for me—north-facing, small, but clean.

She was polite on the surface, but that politeness carried an icy distance.

I could feel it. She hated me.

Not me as a person, but the identity of "Damian's sister."

Living at the Palmers', I'd describe it as living under someone else's charity.

Vivian never mistreated me. Food, clothes, everything—even better than what many of my classmates had.

But she barely spoke to me, looking at me like I was a defective product she had no choice but to accept.

Damian was caught in the middle, growing quieter and quieter.

He got promoted to team leader at the factory, became busier, and when he came home, he still had to deal with Vivian and her extremely controlling father.

I could see his exhaustion, but he never complained.

When I was fifteen, I got into Central High, the best high school in the state.

Most importantly, Central was a boarding school.

The day I got my acceptance letter, Damian was happy as a kid, specially cooking a whole table of dishes.

Vivian was happy too—happier than Damian, even.

At dinner, she gave me a genuinely warm smile for once:

"Claire's so impressive. Boarding school is great—you can focus on your studies."

I understood what she meant: I'd be boarding, so she wouldn't have to see me every day anymore.

The night before school started, Damian came to my room and handed me a bank card.

"The PIN is your birthday. If you need anything, buy it. Don't try to save money."

"Does Vivian know?"

"...Yes."

He wasn't telling the truth. I could see the unease in his eyes.

"Don't worry," I said. "I'll study hard and become independent soon. Then...I won't be a burden to you guys anymore."

Damian opened his mouth to say something but ended up just ruffling my hair.

"Claire's all grown up."

His palm was warm, but I pulled away.