Chapter 8 Alice’s Family
My father hunched into himself as he gazed at my photo.
My mother was in tears, and she looked devastated. “Why, Alice? Haven’t I treated you well? Your parents died early, and you came to me at three years old. I raised you ever since you were a child! Haven’t I been good enough to you?”
Her voice rose to a strange pitch, which made my ears ring.
Alice smiled oddly and looked at my mother with pity. “You’ve always thought my parents died to save Vanessa. How foolish you are!”
“What do you mean?” My mother’s face turned pale, and her hand trembled slightly.
Alice laughed maniacally and said, “It was my parents who wanted to kill Vanessa so I could take her place as your daughter! They envied your lavish lifestyle and wanted me to be your only daughter!
“However, I ran away that day because my mother scolded me when I wanted Vanessa’s hair tie. They died because they went into the fire to find me!”
Right then, a memory surged back to me..
remembered my uncle and aunt gripping my clothes tightly and asking where Alice was. When they saw me shaking my head in confusion, they locked the door and told me to just die in there.
I couldn’t open the door, no matter how hard I tried. I cried and pounded on the door, but there was no response.
In my fear, I ran to the balcony.
My room was on the second floor, and I saw many adults gathered below. I cried out in fear. Behind me, the thick smoke from the fire loomed like a beast. I heard them shouting for me to jump.
I couldn’t remember where I found the courage to follow their instructions. Perhaps it might be due to the fact I fainted and fell.
I never expected that their actions would inadvertently save my life.
The fire outside was too intense. In their search for Alice, they ultimately failed to escape.
Suddenly, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
The burden I carried for my entire life–the death of her parents, which was supposedly because they saved me- was finally lifted. I never owed her anything. I didn’t need to accommodate her.
“No! You b*tch!” My mother screamed and struggled like a mad woman.
Memories of her beating and scolding me flooded her mind. A surge of guilt seemed to choke my mother. Yet, it also fueled her strength.
