Chapter 4

Grace hadn't gone to sleep yet.

She sat at her vanity, gently stroking Aria's hair.

Aria had been frightened today and insisted on sleeping with her.

At this moment, the little girl had fallen asleep, her small face still showing traces of distress.

Grace sighed.

She thought again about tonight's events.

That child called Juniper, that dirty little face, and that timid call of "daddy."

Honestly, the first moment she saw that child, she felt something strange.

Not entirely disgust.

There was also a trace of inexplicable... closeness.

Especially when she knelt on the floor looking up with those eyes so similar to her own, Grace's heart had actually stabbed with pain.

How could this be?

She must be going crazy.

That was just a servant's child.

A crude, ill-mannered bastard who'd even learned to lie.

Grace shook her head, trying to shake off these absurd thoughts.

Just then, she heard a faint, suppressed whimpering.

The sound came from the balcony.

She paused.

This late at night, who was outside?

She stood and quietly walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, pulling back a corner of the curtain.

In the moonlight, a small, thin figure was curled up in the corner of the balcony.

It was Juniper.

She hugged her knees, head buried in her arms, small shoulders shaking.

She was crying.

Crying so sadly, so helplessly, yet not daring to make too much noise.

As if afraid of disturbing others, or perhaps afraid of being discovered in her vulnerability.

Grace's heart felt like something squeezed it hard.

Pain.

She didn't know what was wrong with her.

This afternoon she'd hated this child so much.

But now, seeing her cry alone in the cold night wind, she actually felt some compassion.

As if possessed, she opened the balcony door.

"It's so late. What are you doing here?"

Her voice came out softer than she'd expected.

Hearing the voice, my body jerked violently.

I slowly raised my head, seeing her, my eyes immediately filling with panic.

I quickly scrambled up from the floor, standing there at a loss, like a child caught doing something wrong.

"I'm... I'm sorry, ma'am."

"I... I didn't mean to."

My voice carried a thick nasal tone, hoarse and pitiful.

"I... I didn't dare go back."

"Mrs.... Mrs. Hayes said she'd break my legs."

As I spoke, tears fell again.

Grace's brow furrowed.

"She was going to hit you?"

"Yes."

I nodded, instinctively touching my swollen, reddened cheek.

In the moonlight, that clear handprint was especially prominent.

Grace's gaze fell on my face, her eyes narrowing.

She reached out as if to touch it, but stopped mid-air.

She seemed to find me dirty.

I saw her hesitation.

I sneered inwardly but looked even more pitiful outwardly.

I lowered my head, saying softly, "It's okay, ma'am. It doesn't hurt."

"Mrs. Hayes said I was disobedient, that I made Miss Aria angry, so I deserved it."

"As long as... as long as you don't send me away, being hit is fine."

"I don't want to go to an orphanage."

"I heard from other servants that children in orphanages don't get enough food and get bullied."

Each of my sentences was like a needle, pricking Grace's heart.

She'd grown up privileged, never witnessing such a scene in her life.

A three-year-old child actually begging not to be sent away, willing to endure beatings.

What kind of desperation was this?

For the first time, she felt a trace of dissatisfaction toward Victoria.

Even if it was a servant's child, surely she couldn't abuse her like this?

"You... come inside first. It's cold outside."

After a long silence, she finally spoke.

I froze, as if not believing my ears.

I looked up at her, eyes full of flattered gratitude.

"Thank you, ma'am."

I carefully walked into the room, standing awkwardly at the carpet's edge, not daring to step forward.

I kept my head down, not daring to look at her or any of the luxurious furnishings in the room.

I acted exactly like a child from the slums who'd accidentally wandered into a palace.

Inferior, yet tinged with curiosity.

Seeing me like this, the dissatisfaction in Grace's heart turned to pity.

"You're called... Juniper?"

She asked.

"Yes."

"Who gave you that name?"

"Mrs. Hayes."

I said, "She told me I was found under a grapefruit tree."

Grace fell silent.

She looked at me, then at Aria sleeping sweetly on the bed.

One randomly picked up under a grapefruit tree.

One cherished like a precious pearl amid endless love.

How unfair fate was.

Just then, I suddenly caught a sweet fragrance.

It came from a plate of cut mangoes on the nightstand.

Left as a bedtime snack for Aria.

My eyes immediately locked onto that plate of mangoes.

Then my face showed an expression of extreme terror.

I began backing away uncontrollably, my body starting to tremble.

"No... don't..."

I cried out in alarm.

"Don't eat that... eating it will... will kill you..."

My reaction was intense.

As if I'd seen some deadly poison.

Grace was startled.

"What's wrong with you?"

She asked, confused.

"That... that thing is poisonous!"

I pointed at the mango, voice trembling.

"I... I saw it before. A kid in my village ate this and got red spots all over, then... then died."

I fabricated a lie full of ignorance and fear that fit my background identity.

Grace froze.

Mango?

Poisonous?

Of course she knew mangoes weren't poisonous.

But she also knew that everyone in the Hartley family was allergic to mangoes.

Mild cases broke out in rashes, severe cases... could indeed be fatal.

This was a hereditary family secret.

Except for the closest family members, outsiders couldn't possibly know.

But this child before her...

Why would she have such a strong reaction to mangoes?

Could it be...

A thought Grace herself found absurd—just like James—sprouted in her heart.

She looked at me, eyes full of shock and disbelief.

Then she looked at the "daughter" on the bed who loved eating mangoes.

A thought screamed frantically in her mind.

Could this one actually be my daughter?

Then who is that one on the bed?