Chapter 3

The banquet had already started by the time I went downstairs.

The hall was brilliantly lit, filled with the scent of expensive perfume and the rustle of elegant clothes.

Everyone was crowded around Grandma, wishing her a happy birthday as laughter echoed through the hall.

My stepsister, Blair Wilson, stood in the center, my mom affectionately holding her hand.

"Blair's a go-getter."

Her face was beaming with pride.

"She organized this entire banquet herself, without a single mistake.

She even prepared gifts for everyone.

Who wouldn't love her?"

The guests all chimed in.

"Blair is truly outstanding."

"She's pretty and capable.

You're so lucky, Mrs. Wilson."

I stood at the edge of the stairs like an outsider who had blundered in.

Blair noticed me first and walked over immediately.

"Elowen."

She handed me an exquisite velvet box, her voice gentle.

"This is for you. Everyone got one.

I spent a long time picking it out; I think it really suits you."

I froze, and just as I reached for it, my mom snatched it away.

"She has no use for this."

Blair's expression shifted slightly.

"Madeline..."

My mom glanced inside the box and sneered.

"Giving her jewelry this nice is a waste.

She's so plain that any jewelry would just be wasted on her."

My hand stayed frozen in mid-air, my fingertips slowly curling inward.

Blair frowned, her tone uncharacteristically serious.

"Elowen is beautiful. This set really does suit her."

Madeline interrupted impatiently,

"Stop defending her! How can she compare to you?

You went to a great school, you're capable, and you have your own company at such a young age."

"Unlike her—still just a nobody, too timid to even look people in the eye."

She shot me a cold glare.

"Learn from your sister."

Blair looked at me as if she wanted to argue more.

I gently shook my head.

It was useless.

Blair hesitated for a moment before whispering,

"I'll go look after the guests first."

As soon as she left, the smile on Madeline's face vanished.

"Where's your gift?"

I handed over the box I'd been holding the whole way.

It contained the scriptures I had spent three months hand-copying.

Grandma was a devout Orthodox Christian; these gifts came straight from the heart.

But my mom only took one look, and her face darkened.

"This is what you're giving her?"

She whispered, her eyes filled with disgust.

"Elowen, are you trying to embarrass me on purpose?"

My throat tightened.

"I copied them by hand..."

"Who wants these?"

She tossed the box aside and shoved another gift box from a staff member into my hands. "Give her this later.

Don't bring out your shabby things and make a fool of yourself."

My chest ached as I looked at the Bible discarded in the corner.

But it was Grandma's birthday.

I couldn't make a scene, and I didn't dare to.

Madeline acted as if nothing had happened and continued,

"After you give the gift, go to the kitchen and help.

Make a bowl of soup for your grandmother."

I lowered my eyes and murmured, "Okay."

As I turned toward the kitchen, I ran right into my stepfather and another man entering side-by-side.

The man wore a dark suit, his expression calm and detached.

It was Silas.

I'd heard the old Mr. Wilson had adopted him; he lived elsewhere and rarely came back.

I had only seen him once, the day I entered the Wilson family.

Back then, he was just like this—stern and completely unapproachable.

We'd hardly ever spoken.

I stopped and called out softly,

"Silas."

His gaze fell on my face.

He paused for two seconds before giving a curt nod.

"Mm."

Since I started working, my mom always told me to ask him for advice.

Over the last two months, we'd actually been in touch more than before.

But seeing him in person, I was still nervous and didn't dare look at him.

After the banquet began, I sat in the most inconspicuous corner.

People were clinking glasses all around, the room buzzing with noise.

But my mind was full of that little snake.

And that address.

I had to find him—I had to.

So I just forced down a few bites and endured the rest of the party until the end, then stood up to leave.

Just as I reached the hallway, a slender hand blocked my path.

Silas held out a small box.

"Pastries."

I was stunned.

His voice was deep and steady.

"I saw you didn't eat much tonight.

Have these in case you get hungry."

In that instant, my heart skipped a beat for no reason.

His voice... sounded familiar.

I gripped the box and waited a long moment before whispering, "Thank you, Silas."

Silas stared at me, seeming like he wanted to say something.

But in the end, he just looked down.

"It's late. Get some rest."

I felt relieved and was about to leave when a hand clamped hard around my wrist.

I didn't know how long Mom had been standing behind me.

Her face was terrifyingly grim.

She dragged me all the way to a corner.

The next second—Smack!

A heavy slap landed on my face.