“Ma’am, your parents are requesting your presence immediately.”

The words were polite, practiced—but Liora felt the warning beneath them.

She lifted her gaze to Nadia and forced her lips into a faint smile. “Of course.”

Turning away, she drew in a slow breath, steadying herself before she began the walk back toward the dining room. The corridor felt longer than before, the polished floor reflecting the soft glow of the chandeliers above. Each step sent a dull ache through her hip, a lingering reminder of the fall she hadn’t recovered from. She adjusted her pace, hiding the slight limp as best she could. Weakness was not tolerated in this house.

Nadia walked beside her in silence. Her eyes flicked once—just once—toward Liora’s uneven steps, then quickly away. She said nothing, and for that, Liora was grateful.

“Ma’am,” Nadia murmured after a moment, her voice low, careful, “your parents… and the Williams family seem very upset.”

Liora’s fingers curled slightly at her side.

“What happened now? She thought inwardly

Her stomach tightened as she picked up her pace, ignoring the sharp protest in her leg. With every step closer to the dining room, an uneasy heaviness settled in her chest, as if her body already knew what awaited her.

The moment she crossed the threshold, dread wrapped itself around her spine.

Mia sat pressed against Celeste’s shoulder, her face blotchy, tears sliding down her cheeks as she cried softly. Their parents hovered close, offering murmured comforts. The air was thick with tension, heavy and suffocating. When Liora entered, every movement stilled. Every gaze turned to her.

Her mother’s eyes hardened instantly.

“I can’t believe she would say such things to us,” Celeste spoke first, her tone soft but wounded. “Especially to Mia.”

Liora’s lips parted. “I—”

“She was cruel,” Mia whispered, clutching at her sleeve. “She said things no one should ever say.”

The room seemed to tilt.

In that instant, Liora understood exactly what was happening.

They were framing her.

“And what exactly did you do to my daughter?” Mrs. Williams demanded, her voice sharp with fury.

“I didn’t—” Liora stepped forward, her pulse pounding.

“She spoke to us with such arrogance,” Celeste interrupted smoothly. “As if we were beneath her.”

Mia’s sobs grew louder, her shoulders shaking.

They spoke over her—voices overlapping, accusations piling one atop another—until Liora’s words tangled uselessly in her throat. No matter how many times she tried to speak, she was silenced.

Her mother had already begun apologizing, her voice rushed and desperate, humiliation evident in every word. Her father remained seated, his expression cold and unreadable, before finally standing to echo her apologies with stiff formality.

Liora’s heart sank.

This wasn’t about the Williams family anymore.

“It seems,” Mrs. Williams said icily, her gaze flicking toward Liora, “that you did not train your daughter well, Helene.”

The words struck harder than any slap.

“We will be taking our leave.”

As the Williams family turned and exited, Liora watched the precise moment her mother’s composed mask cracked. Perfection meant everything to her—and tonight, Liora had shattered it beyond repair.

The doors closed with a final, echoing thud.

Silence followed.

Her mother turned slowly.

Liora’s feet moved on instinct, backing away.

“Mother, please—”’

“You stupid girl!”

Her mother advanced, fury blazing in her eyes. Liora froze. Running would only make it worse.

“What have you done?” her mother snapped, her pointed nails digging painfully into Liora’s arm as she shoved her backward. “We told you to behave. And you chose to humiliate us.”

“Mother, please listen—”

“Do not speak when I am speaking!”

“But—”

Her mother’s hand hovered in the air for half a second.

Then it came down.

The slap struck with brutal force, snapping Liora’s head to the side. She lost her balance and collapsed to the floor, pain exploding through her hip as a sharp cry tore from her throat.

“I SAID DON’T SPEAK WHEN I’M SPEAKING!”

Her ears rang. The room blurred. Tears spilled freely now, hot and unstoppable.

“You are confined to your room,” her mother continued coldly. “You will not step outside this house until I say otherwise. You disgrace me at every opportunity, and you will learn your lesson. Is that understood?”

“Y-Yes, Mother,” Liora whispered, her voice barely audible.

Satisfied, her mother turned away, her curses trailing behind her as she left the dining room.

Liora remained where she had fallen, her body trembling.

Her father approached, his shadow stretching over her. She didn’t look up.

“You are a disgrace,” he said flatly.

Then he walked away.

A strangled sob escaped her. She pressed a hand over her mouth, muffling the sound as her shoulders shook. She stayed like that for a long while before forcing herself upright. Every movement hurt. Still, she limped toward the stairs, each step heavier than the last.

Once inside her room, she locked the door and sank to the floor, her back pressed against it.

A knock sounded moments later.

“Please,” she whispered hoarsely. “I just want to be alone.”

“Ma’am, it’s Nadia,” came the gentle reply. “Please let me in. I brought food… and medicine.”

Liora wiped her face and unlocked the door.

Nadia guided her carefully to the bed, helping her sit. Liora winced as pressure touched her hip, and Nadia’s eyes filled with apology.

“I need to tend to your arm first,” Nadia said softly.

Only then did Liora notice the dark bruise blooming along her skin.

She watched silently as Nadia applied the ointment with careful hands, each touch deliberate and gentle.

“Thank you, Nadia,” Liora murmured.

“It’s nothing, Ma’am.”

“Nadia.”

“Yes, Ma’am?”

Liora inhaled slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor.

“I need contraceptive pills.”