Chapter 4 - The Fire and the Debt
Margaret’s triumphant smirk dissolved instantly, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "What... what nonsense is this? That doesn't explain the scars! That doesn't explain why she’s hiding in a billionaire's house!"
I didn't look at Margaret. My eyes were fixed on Nathan, whose face had gone pale as he stared down at the document in the technician's hands.
"When I was seventeen," I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth, "our house caught fire in the middle of a November freeze. The electrical wiring was faulty—something the landlord had ignored for years. My parents didn't wake up in time."
I reached back, my fingers lightly brushing the pale, uneven skin across my shoulder blade.
"I went back inside through the kitchen window to pull Johnny and Paul out of the second-floor bedroom," I continued, my voice steady despite the memories clawing their way up my throat. "The ceiling collapsed right as I was handing Paul out to the neighbor. Lily was just a baby in her crib downstairs; I had to crawl through the smoke to get to her. That's how I got the burns. That's how my back and side were destroyed."
Nathan took a slow, heavy step toward me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, but he stopped himself, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
"And the three kids everyone in this house gossiped about?" Nathan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "The ones the staff whispered had different fathers?"
"They aren't my children, Nathan," I said, a bitter, sad smile touching my lips. "They are my brother and sisters. I raised them. I worked three cleaning jobs, put myself through night school, and sent every single paycheck back home so Johnny could finish high school, Paul could get his leg surgeries, and Lily could have a normal childhood."
Margaret stumbled backward, her hand flying to her chest. "Nobody... nobody told me..."
"Because you didn't want to know, Mrs. Carter," I said, turning my gaze fully onto her. "You wanted a scandal. You wanted an excuse to look down on someone. You wanted to believe I was trash so you could feel clean."
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Nathan slowly turned his head to look at his mother. The fury in his eyes was no longer cold; it was burning hot enough to melt steel.
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