Rachel cast a fleeting glance at her eldest daughter, maintaining a deliberate distance, her tone brusque and perfunctory. Cassandra youll manage, wont you? Theres enough space for one.

Cassandra said nothing, but the silence that stretched in her mind was deafening.

In all her worst nightmares, she never imagined this. Three years of living like a beast in a filthy pen, stolen from the life she knewand now, returned to find herself consigned to a kennel, as though one exile might neatly replace the last.

It was as if she had escaped one hellish inferno only to fall headlong into a freezing abyss.

And this abyss, heartbreakingly, was home.

Aunt Rachel, this is going too far. Cassandra is your own daughtershes your blood! How can you treat her like this? Miles spoke up, his voice hardening with indignation.

Rose quickly interjected, looping her arm through his with a saccharine smile, her voice sly and sweet. Mile-Mile, you sound awfully concerned about her. Is it because youre still in love with her?

I Miles faltered, his gaze flickering to Cassandras pale face, where every fragile mask was beginning to crack under the weight of her grief. She held herself rigid, her heartbreak almost a phantom you could point to; her pain visible in her clenched fists and the tremor of her breath. Seeing her like this was like a fist tightening around his chest.

He and Cassandra had grown up together, inseparable since childhood. They were each others first love, their bond deepened over years of shared secrets and dreams. Their future had always seemed assuredto everyoneuntil the day she vanished without a word, swallowed by the unknowable.

Even now, after all this time, no matter what he told himself, the truth hollowed him out: he still loved her.

But the Cassandra of today wasnt the one he had known, had adored, had admired. That CassandraImperias most dazzling socialite, a prodigy, radiant with accomplishmenthad been devoured by these past three years. What remained was broken, bruised, unrecognizable. She had been violated, shattered by brutes; borne a fools child; been left plagued by an illness that society made monstrous.

His throat clenched. He fought down the war within him and forced himself to speak. Im notIm not in love with her. I just I just think its pitiful, what shes been through.

Pitiful, yes, Rose agreed, her lips curling in a mimicry of sympathy. Her delicate features drooped with faux sorrow, an odd counterfeit of guilt. But pity only goes so far. As her family, we cant jeopardize everyones health. Honestly, weve already gone above and beyond in taking her in at all.

The word she used*taking her in*was deliberately chosen, ignoring the inconvenient truth that *Rose* was the one who had been taken in, the adopted outsider filling spaces she could never own.

Miless jaw tightened, but the words he wanted to hurl back froze on his tongue. Looking at Rose, he faltered. Looking at Rachel, he hesitated.

They dont believe Jaspers assurances. They dont believe Cassandra is free of disease. No matter what theyre told, theyve already made up their minds.

Rachel, lips pressed thin, shifted her gaze back to Cassandra. Her tone softened, marginallythe tone one might use to coax a stray dog into compliance. Cassandra, for now, you can use the common bathroom downstairs to wash up. And about your sleeping arrangementswell let you stay in the doghouse, for the time being. But dont worry, well have a proper little place built for you in the back garden soon enough.

The bathroom she was referring to was the servants restrooma sharp, unspoken reminder that the familys living quarters were exclusively upstairs. No shared space with her.

Even so, Rachels expression betrayed distaste. It was a compromise she detested, but what other choice did she have?

Cassandra stood stiffly, every muscle locked, every word Rachel uttered a serrated blade dragging through her chest. She had come home hopingno, believingthat their coldness was simply shock, their awkwardness a momentary lapse due to the suddenness of her return.

But she understood now.

To them, she was already dead. They had mourned her, and now, in her place, Rose had slid seamlessly into her role as the familys eldest daughter, as the Grant Familys jewel.

Rose. Perfect, polished Rose. The cuckoo in the nest had supplanted her utterly.

The realization carved her open, her ribs quaking with the ache of it. But Cassandra swallowed the knot in her throat, forced herself to slow her breathing, and calmed the storm thrashing inside her. With eerie composure, she moved to the couch, sank down, and announced flatly, Anyone whos so insistent on the doghouse can sleep there themselves. Ill take the couch.

You Rachel bristled, her words stuttering, as if strangled by disbelief. When she finally spoke, her voice pitched high with frustration. Sleeping in the living room? What kind of behavior is that? Are you trying to humiliate us?

Cassandra didnt bother to reply.

The pain was too raw, too consuming. Every word she might have spoken would have shredded her hollow reserves. So she turned away instead, curling up on the sofa in front of them all, and simply closed her eyes. The conversation, the weight of their hostilityit no longer mattered. Theyd ceased to be worth even a scrap of her energy.

Her audacity struck the gathered family dumb. They exchanged helpless, stunned glances, the atmosphere rippling with unease.

Only Rose seemed unfazed, her lips twitching into the faintest hint of a sly smile. She hoped Cassandra would keep this uplet the tantrums continue, let the friction escalate. The more Cassandra spiraled, the more their parents would come to resent her. Eventually, inevitably, they would cast her out again. Permanently.

But Cassandra simply lay there, indifferent to the whispers and glares, and slept as if no one else in the world existed. She drifted through the hours in restless silence, her presence in the shared space infecting the Grant household with a stubborn tension.

By the afternoon, resentment simmered to boiling. The residual stench from her days among pigs still clung faintly to her skin and hair, and though it was fading, the familys irritation grew in response. It wasn't long before Rachel, fuming in exasperation, finally caved.

She tossed a bundle of fresh clothes onto the couch where Cassandra sprawled and snapped, her patience worn through, Go take a shower. Theres a maids room downstairsits clean, and its empty. You can sleep there for now.

Cassandra kept her eyes closed.

But she had been awake for a while, lying motionless and letting her mind sift through countless thoughts.

For example: how to shamelessly secure her stay here.

How to expose Roses schemes and exact her revenge.

How to see those human traffickers thrown behind bars.

How to pick up the threads of her unfinished education.

And what lay aheadwhat kind of future awaited her?

The Grant family was no haven for her, that much was clear. Whatever ties they might have shared, she considered them long severed, dead and buried.

Rachels voice broke through the quiet, grating in its persistence. Cassandra, did you hear me? Im talking to you.

Only then did Cassandra open her eyes, their cold, detached gaze freezing Rachel in place.

Her sister's inexplicable chill tightened something in Rachels chest, but she pushed it aside. Cassandra sat up slowly, her movements precise, deliberate. Her eyes flicked to the clothes folded neatly by the sofa. These arent mine.

Theyre Roses, Rachel explained, her tone wavering under Cassandras unrelenting stare. After a brief pause, she added, Your clothes when the house was renovated, we had to clear things out.

Renovated? Cassandra arched a brow, her voice deceptively calm.

Well, you werent here, and the room was just sitting empty, so weuhwe opened it up to connect with Roses room. It made a nice walk-in closet, Rachel admitted, her words faltering, her confidence eroding beneath Cassandras sharp gaze.

Cassandras lips twisted in a bitter mockery of a smile. Perfect. Rose had even claimed her room.

You really did act as if I were dead, she said, her tone dangerously even.

Rachel flinched, her silence more damning than any words could be.

A cold laugh escaped Cassandra. But even if I were dead, Im still your daughter. Not a shred of me left to remember? Not even that?

Rachel fumbled for a defense. Well, of course we kept your valuable belongingsto, you know, to remember you by.

Cassandras gaze bore down on her. Bring them to me.

Rachel bristled at her daughters imperious tone but dared not argue. The stench of conflict was already too thick in the air of the stiflingly tense living room. She turned on her heel and went upstairs, her footsteps quick and uneasy.

The valuable belongings Rachel referred to were Cassandras jewelry, gifts shed received on every birthday, every milestone, from childhood until the day shed disappeared. Now, of course, they all belonged to Rose.

Rachel stepped into her younger daughters room, opened the safe, and began pulling out the collection.

Roses eyes widened, betrayal flickering across her face. Mom

Darling, Rachel coaxed, soft and placating, well give these back to herfor now, just so theres no fuss. Later, well go buy you more, so much more. Tomorrow, even, if youd like.

Satisfied, Roses pout transformed into a radiant, obedient smile. These were hers to begin with, after all. Now that shes back, its only right we return her things. Lets do it together, Mom. Ill help.

Rachels heart swelled with pride. Youve always been the considerate one. Not like your sistershes different now. Every word out of her mouth is meant to hurt, to attack me.

Mom Rose slipped her hand into Rachels, her voice the softest murmur. Dont let it upset you. Cassandra must have gone through somethingtrauma. Shes not herself. We just need to be patient and keep showing her love.

Oh, my sweet girl Rachel sighed, her voice thick with gratitude as she leaned into Roses comfort. At least I have you. Thank goodness for that.

Together, they descended the stairs, Rachel carrying the velvet-lined trays laden with Cassandras jewelry.

Cassandra, Rose said sweetly, her voice dripping syrup, for the past three years, Ive been keeping all this safe for you. Theyre yours again now. Her words glimmered with false congeniality, a sharp, gleaming edge just beneath their surface.

Cassandras eyes flicked down to the jewelry. In her mind, she was already calculating its worth. Then she tilted her head toward Rose, the slightest smile curving her lips. Thank you, little sister. It must sting to give back what youve already swallowed whole, doesnt it? But youre Ms. Grant nowjewelrys hardly in short supply. Im sure Mom and Dad will buy you new ones soon enough.

Rachels gaze darted away, her guilt a palpable shadow across her face.

Rose, however, feigned oblivion to Cassandras barbed remarks. She wore her brightest, emptiest smile as she offered, Which ones your favorite? Ill help you put it on.

Cassandra fixed her eyes on Rose, her gaze cutting like glass. She tilted her chin slightly, her voice a low, deliberate murmur. I think the one I like most is around your neck. What do you say to that?