This was her entry point.
With a deep breath, Serena pushed through the tangled vines, brushing leaves aside as they scraped against her arms. A sharp sting reminded her of the risks she was taking, but she pressed on, her focus unwavering. On the other side, she found the back fence, slightly bent at the bottom corner, a result of years of neglect.
Crouching down, she carefully lifted the loosened section of the fence just enough to slide herself beneath it, dirt smudging her palms and knees. As she straightened up in the backyard, a wave of realization washed over her-she was trespassing.
Taking a moment to steady herself, she approached the basement window, her heart pounding in her ears.
Kneeling, she brushed aside the overgrown weeds and began to claw at the damp earth with her fingers. The cold, stubborn soil felt just as her old nanny had described it-a reminder of the past. The foundation of the mansion was lined with ancient bricks, each one steeped in memories.
After a minute of digging, her fingers finally brushed against the one spot she had been searching for.
The loose brick.
It was exactly where it had been seventeen years ago.
A shaky breath escaped her lips as she marveled at the fact that no one had discovered it.
But then again… this brick was meant to be a secret. It was her lifeline during those harrowing three days locked away in the basement.
With careful hands, Serena pried the brick free, allowing the cold air to seep through the gap. She slid her slender arm into the narrow opening, her fingers feeling blindly until
Click.
The window latch released.
With her heart racing, she eased the window open and slipped inside. Old fears crept up her spine, but she pushed them aside and forged ahead.
However, the moment she glanced around the dark basement, memories from the past flooded her mind.
Her chest tightened painfully.
She felt the air leave her lungs.
As she turned to the very spot where Victor had once tied her down with a chain, tears began to spill down her cheeks.
She could never forget. How could she? It was the most traumatic experience of her life.
Seventeen years ago.
“Ahhh!”
Serena’s scream pierced the air as
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Victor’s hand struck the side of her head. Pain exploded behind her eyes. “You will stay here with no food on water until you learn your lesson!” he bellowed, his voice echoing with fury. “You ungrateful child! How dare you hurt my guest’s daughter!”
“Dad, please! I didn’t do it on purpose!” Serena cried, stumbling backward in fright.
“She-she stuck out her foot! I tripped, and the tea spilled!”
At just eight years old, Serena had been tasked with serving when Victor had invited guests over-a family of three she had never met.
y of the had been order
As always, she bring tea to the patio. Roselind had instructed her to be careful, and she had done her best. Cont?nt
But as she approached the table, the guests’ daughter-a young blond girl around her age-had deliberately extended hereg blocking Serena’s path. Serena hadnt even had time to react. She stumbled, the trayo lurched, and hot tea splashed onto the girl’s arm. Content b?tongs
It was a small burn. A mistake. An accident.
But Victor had not cared.
“You humiliated me!” he spat, grabbing her arm and dragging her toward the basement. “You always ruin everything!”
He shoved her hard.
Serena tumbled down the stairs, pain shooting through her back and ankle. Before she could catch her breath, the door slammed shut behind her. For three agonizing days, Victor kept her locked in the dark.
Three days with no light, and no mercy.
On the first day, Serena had no food or water. She would have starved and dehydrated if not for her old nanny, who quietly slipped small portions through the loose brick she had tampered with.
It was the cruelest thing her father had ever done, an incident that brought social services to their door and forced Serena into a year of therapy.
She never discovered who had alerted the authorities, but after the investigation,
Victor and Roselind had stopped laying a hand on her.
They became more careful. They no longer struck her, but their indifference hurt just the same.
The Study.
Serena pressed her hand against her chest, her heart racing as if it might burst free. “God, no,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a fragile plea echoing in the silence.
Unbeknownst to her, she had already spent a disorienting fifteen minutes in the basement, trapped in the clutches of her own memories. The weight of that past trauma anchored her in place, her limbs growing heavy and unresponsive, as if the very air around her conspired to keep her rooted to the ground.
Images flooded her mind-vivid snapshots of a time when she was far too young to comprehend the pain she endured. She felt a familiar sting of indignation; she didn’t deserve such cruelty. Had it not been for the relentless therapy sessions mandated by the social service worker, Serena doubted she would have emerged from the emotional fog that had enveloped her for so long.
In her heart, she carried the burden of her childhood experience like a hidden scar, a mark of shame that she rarely shared with anyone. Nathaniel was oblivious to her past, and most others were too. Only Alice had been granted access to that part of her soul. It was during a college retreat, amidst the laughter and camaraderie, that she had finally bared her heart to her best friend, revealing the dark shadows of her upbringing. A part of her had learned to carry it like a stain-something to be hidden, something that rendered her feeling small and alien in a world that seemed to embrace everyone but her.
“Serena, calm down,” she murmured to herself, forcing her mind to disentangle from the past and return to the present moment.
She closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer, her fingers brushing over her belly, a gentle reminder of the life she carried within her. This was her motivation, her reason to escape the basement’s grasp.
With newfound determination, she slowly ascended the stairs, her heart pounding with each step. When she reached the basement door, she turned the knob, relief washing over her when she found it unlocked.
Emerging cautiously, Serena scanned her surroundings, her instincts on high alert as she checked for any signs of authority nearby. Once she was satisfied that the coast was clear, she darted into a shadowy corner of the house, enveloped in darkness.
Here, she allowed herself a moment to breathe deeply, inhaling the cool air as she steadied her racing heart.
After several agonizing minutes, Serena finally gathered the courage to move again. She had deliberately chosen to wear rubber-soled shoes, knowing they would help her tread silently through the house.
Before making her way up the staircase, she peered into the main hallway leading to the living room. The dim lighting cast eerie shadows, and she caught glimpses of lights flickering outside the windows-police officers patrolling the perimeter of the mansion.
Once she was certain that no authorities lurked within the house, Serena hastened toward her parents’ room. The absence of light forced her to rely on the glow of her phone as she searched for any remnants that might connect her to her parents.
Her heart sank when she discovered that the toothbrushes were gone, and not a single comb remained. The room appeared unnervingly tidy, with fresh sheets on the bed but no curtains hanging in the windows, leaving the space feeling stark and empty.
“They must have thrown it all out,” she muttered bitterly, a sense of loss washing over her.
Checking her phone, she noted the silence from Alice-no messages, no calls. That meant it was still safe, for now.
“The study,” she whispered to herself. “There has to be something in the study that I can find.”
With renewed purpose, she carefully retraced her steps down to the first floor and made her way to her father’s study.
Inside, she took in the familiar surroundings, her heart swelling with nostalgia as she spotted a few items that belonged to her father. Each object sparked a flood of memories, transporting her back to moments long past.
A fountain pen lay elegantly on the wooden table, its polished surface gleaming in the dim light. She remembered how her father would absently chew on the cap while contemplating his next signature, a nervous habit that had always fascinated her.
With gloved hands, she picked up the pen, cradling it gently before placing it in a ziplock container, a small token of her father’s presence amidst the chaos.
As she rummaged through the drawers, her heart raced when she discovered a stress ball-Victor’s stress ball. She recalled how he would grip it tightly when frustration took hold of him. The chances of obtaining DNA were slim, but she was willing to take that risk.
Suddenly, a thought struck her. “Wait, maybe Victor kept documents about me. If I’m adopted, there could be adoption papers!”
She rifled through the drawers once more, her hopes rising and falling with each empty space. Turning her attention to the built-in bookshelves, she noticed signs of a recent search-the disarray of books strewn haphazardly on the floor suggested the police had been there.
But there was still hope; they hadn’t uncovered everything.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.