She Turned Her Grief Into Wings novel Chapter 71

Later, that woman explained it to her: he had only pretended to be good to her because he secretly despised her and her mother.

But she refused to believe it. She felt she could see the genuine love in her father's eyes and wouldn't listen to a stranger's version of him.

What did that foreign woman know, anyway? She had only known her father for a short while—how could she possibly understand the deep bond they shared as a family of three?

So, she went to her father. She apologized, saying she shouldn't have spoken to him in that tone. She expected him to pull her into a comforting hug just like before, to tell her she had done nothing wrong and that she was just being fierce and had scared the woman.

But he didn't. Without a shred of remorse, he told her that her mother had been driven to her death by the Hayes family, that their family of three had been torn apart by the Hayes family, and that the Hayes family was entirely to blame for ruining their lives.

She tried to explain, insisting the fire had been an accident, that her mother had passed away because she was trying to save Yvette.

But he reprimanded her for being foolish, for failing to recognize their true enemies. He even locked her in her room, telling her to think things through clearly before speaking to him again.

Eventually, starved of her strength and crying for mercy, he finally let her out and allowed her to eat.

He only had one demand for her: figure out a way to secure the position of Mrs. Hayes.

She knew exactly what he wanted.

The family shrine was damp and bitterly cold, the chill seeping through the floorboards. Helga kneeled there motionless, her back perfectly straight.

——

When Caden returned home, the housekeeper had already left. He had instructed her to leave a single light on before she went.

He pushed the door open to a house that was as cold and empty as ever

Changing his shoes in the entryway, he draped his coat over the rack.

The familiar scent of cedar wood by the door had faded; the diffuser bottle was practically empty.

He wasn't much of a music enthusiast. This record player used to be nothing more than a decorative piece. But after Shera moved in, she insisted on putting it to good use and went out of her way to hunt down a collection of vinyls.

She had asked him back then what kind of music he liked and who his favorite composer was. He had casually mentioned Bach, and she had taken it to heart.

Inexplicably, a pile of books on the subject appeared around the house shortly after, and she even took it upon herself to start learning the piano on a whim.

Then, one day, beaming with pride, she announced that she had learned to play "Minuet in G." She even gave him a lengthy, passionate speech about her thoughts on classical music and Bach.

Although her words sounded suspiciously like something copied straight from the internet, she delivered them flawlessly—it was obvious she had spent a long time memorizing the script.

He had only made a casual remark; who would have thought she'd take it so seriously and actually go out of her way to study it?

She had sat at the piano, playing that piece with clumsy fingering, even hitting several wrong notes halfway through. When she finished, she looked up at him with eager anticipation, like a child waiting to be praised.

He had simply said, "Not bad," and a bright smile instantly lit up her face as she humbly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.