Later that day, Emily approached Ophelia, her smile as bright as ever, and led her toward the pool. They hadn't exchanged many words before it happened—Emily had "accidentally" slipped, reaching out to grab onto Ophelia for dear life.
Despite her swimming skills, Ophelia had found herself at the mercy of Emily's panicked strength. At that moment, the world had turned around Ophelia. Emily had pulled her down into the water, dragging her beneath the surface as if Ophelia were a lifeline.
While it was Ophelia who had nearly drowned, it had been Emily who the family had fussed over.
"Mom, Dad, I'm fine. Don't worry so much, okay?" Emily's voice chimed sweetly from the hospital bed, reassuring her family, as if she were the one barely hanging on. "Harry, Nathan, you too. The doctor said it was just a scare, nothing serious." Her words were like honey, but Ophelia could taste the bitterness in the air.
"You silly girl, of course we're worried. How on earth did you end up falling into the pool?" Heather, her mother, hovered over Emily with a steaming bowl of soup. She blew gently on it to make sure that it wasn't too hot for her precious daughter.
Ophelia stood at the door, her chest tight. That small scene, the tenderness in Heather's gestures—it pierced her. She had once dreamed of being cared for like that by her mother.
No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she begged for scraps of affection, her efforts never amounted to anything. Emily, on the other hand, with just a single tear, could summon the world's sympathy.
It was as if right or wrong didn't matter when it came to Emily. The moment Emily cried, the family just assumed everything was Ophelia's fault and all their protective instincts flocked to Emily, just as they were doing now.
"Emily, did Ophelia push you?" Nathan, Emily's second brother, asked, his voice hard and full of certainty. "We checked the hotel's security cameras. It was just you and her by the pool."
"No, please don't blame Elia." Emily's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she feigned a look of understanding, her voice trembling just the right amount. "It was my fault. I slipped. Really."
But the more she denied it, the more the Hastings family believed her to be the victim. The way she played the part of the understanding, self-sacrificing sister only fueled their conviction that Ophelia was the villain in this story.
"You're too good for your own good. That's why Ophelia keeps taking advantage of you, Emily," Nathan muttered with a frown, his hands balling into fists, anger radiating off him. "Ophelia's been nothing but trouble since she came back six months ago. She's hurt you more than once, and you still defend her?"
Emily lowered her head, letting a tear fall on the white blanket. Her voice was soft, filled with guilt. "It's my fault. Elia's the ture heiress of our family. I've been taking her place all these years. If she resents me, I deserve it..."
It was a well-placed confession, one that practically sealed Ophelia's fate. It was a subtle but undeniable admission of guilt that Ophelia had indeed pushed her.
Harry, her eldest brother, instantly leaned down and stroked Emily's hair gently, his voice tender as he comforted her. "Don't be silly, Emily. I've told you before, you'll always be our little princess. No one can take that away from you. Don't ever let me hear you talk like that again. As for what anyone else thinks, you shouldn't let it bother you."
Emily nodded, and though her face was full of worry, there was a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes that vanished just as quickly as it appeared. "But what about Elia? Is she okay?" she asked, her voice dripping with false concern.
"Don't worry about that outsider. She's still breathing. Focus on yourself, alright? Seeing you like this is enough to break my heart." Harry's voice was dismissive, brushing Ophelia's existence aside like it were nothing.
The word "outsider" settled in Ophelia's mind, bitter as poison. Her lips curled into a cold, ironic smile. That was exactly what she was in their eyes—an outsider.
No matter how hard she had tried to fit in, no matter how much she had longed for the family she had been deprived of for twenty years, she had never been one of them in her last life as well as this one.
But this time, things were going to be different. This time, she wasn't going to bend or break for them. The pain, the humiliation she had endured—it was all coming back. But not for her. It was their turn to taste it.
From the corner of the room, Owen, who had remained quiet until now, let out a heavy sigh. "Don't worry, Emily. I'll make sure justice is served," he said, his voice filled with quiet authority.
*****
The Hastings family stood as one of the elite powerhouses in Dellanex, with Sungate Entertainment shining as their crowning jewel.
Their residence Hastings Villa, an opulent estate, radiates grandeur with every blade of grass and meticulously curated plant speaking volumes of the wealth and prestige of its owners. The intricately carved front door, a bespoke marvel, could easily fetch a staggering sum, worth tens of thousands of dollars.
Ophelia walked from the gate to the mansion on foot, her steps slow and steady, but the walk took nearly twenty minutes. Hastings Villa was that sprawling.
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