Chapter 2

Learning my dad wasn't dead,

my first reaction wasn't joy.

It was shame and burning anger.

I wanted to grab him by the collar and demand answers.

Why didn't he come home if he was alive?

He disappeared underwater when I was six, but Brooke was only two years younger than me?

Even if he didn't care about my mom and me, what about Grandma? Did he not care about her at all?

Recalling the beautiful face of the woman in that family photo,

and Brooke's casual mention of her maternal grandfather's prominent status,

I ultimately swallowed the questions on the tip of my tongue.

Whatever the answer, it would only be humiliating.

"Sir,"

I asked,

"You must be very happy to have a daughter like Brooke, right?"

I thought I heard him let out a subtle sigh of relief.

"Happy, yes, but raising her costs a fortune,"

He took my words, his voice betraying unconscious tenderness and indulgence.

"I see you as a daughter too, Skylar. Tomorrow, I'll take you two to the mall. Buy whatever you like, it's on me."

A cold dread settled in my heart.

I felt no joy from his words.

Treat me like a daughter?

I thought he was just guilty, trying to buy my silence.

"No, thank you. You should save that for Brooke instead."

I emphasized.

"But you're our guest…"

He still wanted to persuade me, but Brooke, having finished eating, stuck out her tongue at him.

"Dad, you'll put too much pressure on her!"

She stood up and took my hand, leading me towards her bedroom.

"But I have a lot of clothes I barely wore. You can accept those, right?"

Listening to her describe which clothes she'd only worn once,

and which winter coats were filled with goose down,

I offered a relieved smile.

My feelings for Brooke were complicated,

but I held no real ill will towards her.

Firstly, my father died when I was young, so I didn't have a deep emotional connection to Arthur Grant.

Secondly, she truly was a kind girl, without a hint of a spoiled rich kid's attitude.

I squeezed her hand gently, seriously saying:

"Thank you, Brooke. These clothes are perfect; I won't have to buy anything new for winter this year."

In a flash, the weekend was almost over.

Staying at the Stone's house for a few days had been an emotional ordeal.

Because every time I looked at that familiar face,

I couldn't help but think of my mom, who had worked so hard to raise me,

and Grandma, who, on her deathbed, had called out for her son.

Brooke was still packing in her bedroom.

I sat restlessly in the living room, but a single sentence from him froze me in place.

"Your grandmother… is she doing alright?"

He covered his face, his expression hidden.

Only his eyes were glistening.

Crocodile tears, I sneered inwardly.

"She passed away four years ago. She was still calling out Arthur Grant's name when she died."

He seemed shocked by the news.

After a long moment, he said in a hoarse voice,

"It's my fault."

Too weary to watch his performance, I stood up and pushed my suitcase, ready to leave.

But he caught up to me and pressed something into my hand.

"There's two hundred thousand dollars in here,"

His expression was serious.

As if the man who had just been tearing up and speaking hoarsely was merely a figment of my imagination.

"From now on, we have no connection. Don't even think about trying to cling to me for anything!"

"Most importantly, you're not to reveal our relationship to anyone."

Hearing those words, I trembled with rage.

Did he think all these years of wrongdoing could be bought off with two hundred thousand dollars?

If I kept quiet and didn't expose my connection to him,

it would only be because I didn't want to, not because he'd bribed me.

"My mom raised me, and you didn't pay a single cent of child support!"

"I'm graduating soon; I don't need your money even more now."

I didn't hesitate to throw the bank card onto the floor, then took a deep breath and looked at him with scorn.

"You should be grateful you have a good daughter."

"Otherwise, I absolutely would have exposed your disgraceful actions for everyone to know!"