The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 987

Josiah was hyper-aware of this fact, yet he had no way to pull himself out of the mire.

It was physically and mentally draining.

And then there was Leilani...

An image of her from the first year she was brought back to the Sloans flashed in his mind.

That timid girl, looking at him with hopeful eyes, calling him "brother." The sister who had ultimately severed all ties with them. Now, she was truly gone from this world.

They hadn't even gotten to see her one last time, hadn't even had the chance to sit down and talk things out.

Josiah vividly remembered the day she was released from prison.

It was at the entrance of a grand Sloan family banquet. Back then, they hadn't lost their empire; they were at the peak of their power, the ballroom buzzing with elite guests.

Leilani had stood at the doors, her posture rigid, her face devoid of any emotion. With chilling calmness, she had looked at him and said, "Josiah, this is the last time I'll ever call you my brother."

"From this day forward, whether the Sloan family lives or dies, thrives or burns, it has absolutely nothing to do with me."

At the time, her absolute rejection had stung him. He thought she was cold-blooded, completely ungrateful for the years they had raised her—even if that upbringing hadn't been warm.

But as time passed, the crushing weight of reality had pulverized Josiah's sense of superiority.

When he finally saw through his parents' relentless cruelty and resentment toward her, Josiah realized the truth. That so-called "home" had never offered their "daughter" a shred of genuine love.

All they ever gave her was exploitation, neglect, and a sickening sense of entitlement.

Rubbing his throbbing temples, Josiah didn't spare his parents another glance. He walked straight into his tiny study and quietly shut the door.

The cramped space was overflowing with boxes, leaving just enough room for a desk and an old chair.

Josiah didn't turn on the light. He just leaned back against the cold wooden door and slowly slid down until he hit the floor.

He buried his face in his hands. In the darkness, the only sounds were his ragged breathing and the faint noise of neighbors through the thin walls.

A crushing exhaustion and boundless sorrow completely engulfed him.

...

Even though his relationship with his parents was strained to a breaking point, they were still his responsibility. He couldn't afford the luxury of drowning in grief for long.