21 Years Later
Hannah's POV
"Oh really, Hannah? You actually have the nerve to deny this?"
Jane's voice cut through the hallway's silence like a whip. It lacked the playful, high-pitched tone she usually used when coaxing me to help film a video or pose for her social media. Instead, she stepped right into my personal space, her blue eyes narrowed and glittering with a cold, focused malice.
"Just yesterday," she said, lips curling into a sneer, "I was the one begging Mom and Dad not to kick you out. I defended you. But now, after what I've seen, I'm going to tell them everything. And this time, they'll kick you out for good."
The weight of her threat hit me like a physical blow. My knees buckled and I collapsed onto the marble floor before I could even catch myself. The stone beneath me was icy, biting through the thin fabric of my dress . Jane's pranks were always cruel, meant to humiliate me or make me look foolish for her followers, but this was something else entirely.
I looked up at her, desperate to find a flicker of the sister I was supposed to have, but her face remained hard and final. Desperation clawed at my throat. If I begged, maybe I could fix this. My innocence didn't matter right now , I just needed the noise to stop.
"I didn't do anything," I stammered, voice cracking. I clasped my hands together and rubbed my palms frantically as I pleaded, "I swear I didn't steal your money. You're misunderstanding this, Jane. Please, just listen to me. Don't call them. Please, don't call Mom and Dad."
The words Mom and Dad tasted like ash on my tongue. I only used them in front of strangers, to uphold the illusion of the perfect Ragnar family. Here in the privacy of this house, they weren't parents , they were my owners.
I leaned further forward on my knees, breath coming in short, jagged gasps. I knew exactly what was at stake. The last time a plate shattered and Jane blamed me, I was starved for three days straight. I spent seventy-two hours scrubbing the baseboards of this very hallway.
Jane didn't flinch at my tears ; not even a glance. She turned her back on me as if I were discarded trash and stalked down the hall toward the stairs. The sharp click-clack of her heels on the tile sounded like a countdown.
"Mom, Dad! Where are you?" she shouted, voice echoing off the high ceilings. "You need to hear this!"
I stayed on the floor, heart pounding, mind racing as I searched for an unlocked door or a shadow to hide in. But there was nowhere to go. Footsteps thundered on the floor below, heavy and hurried. A moment later, Mr. and Mrs. Ragnar appeared at the top of the stairs. Mr. Ragnar led the way, his large frame filling the hallway, face already set in a mask of irritation. Mrs. Ragnar followed a step behind, eyes fixed on me with practiced contempt.
"What's all this noise about, Jane?" Mr. Ragnar's booming voice filled the hall. His gaze flicked down to me on the floor, then back to his daughter.
Mrs. Ragnar said nothing, arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.
"Why is she on her knees?" Mr. Ragnar demanded, turning fully toward me.
Jane didn't hesitate. Pointing a manicured finger straight at me, she announced loudly, "Mom, Dad, I just saw Hannah's naked photo on Beta Desmond's phone. And that's not all ; she stole from me. I went to the bank after getting a debit alert of Fifty thousand dollars and I saw that it was transferred directly into her account."
The accusation hit me like a punch to the chest. "What?" Mr. Ragnar's head snapped toward me. "Hannah, is any of this true?"
"No!" I cried, shaking my head so hard my hair fell into my eyes. "It's not true! My phone camera is broken , you know that! And you told me phones weren't allowed while I was working. When would I even have the time to take pictures? I'm always busy cleaning or cooking. And I don't even know her bank details, let alone her password. This is a lie!"
Jane let out a sharp, mocking scoff. She placed one hand dramatically over her heart, the other on her hip, and tilted her head. "Who knows what you do at night when we're all asleep?" she sneered. "She's just jealous, Dad. No one even approaches her since she has no scent. So she decided to try and steal my man and my money."
"You are lying!" I screamed, voice echoing off the walls. "Jane, tell them the truth!"
"Quiet!" Mrs. Ragnar snapped, her voice cold and sharp enough to make me flinch. She stepped forward, eyes narrowing into slits. "I've seen the way you look at Beta Desmond. Seductively. Always hanging around in the same room as him when he visits. It's disgusting."
My breath caught and the air around me felt impossibly thin. I was suddenly gasping for oxygen I couldn't get.
"Do you have any proof of this transfer?" Mr. Ragnar demanded, turning to Jane.
Jane pulled her phone from her pocket and held the screen up for them to see. Fake tears began welling in her eyes, shimmering under the hallway lights. "You know how long I've saved that money," she sobbed. "It was for the wedding and for my future with Desmond. And she just took it. She planned to run away and start a new life with money that isn't hers."
Mrs. Ragnar leaned in close to her husband, voice dropping to a low, venomous whisper. "Honey, why are you even questioning this? It's exactly what a girl like her would do. She knows she's nothing , no mate, no scent, no future. She got desperate and decided to rob our daughter."
She reached out and tenderly stroked Jane's cheek, her expression immediately softening into sympathy. "If you don't believe me," Jane added, voice trembling with mock hurt, "check her phone right now. I traced the transaction and it's all in her account."
Mr. Ragnar's eyes burned into mine. "Hannah. Go get your phone. Now."
I stumbled to my feet, legs shaking so violently I nearly collapsed again. I hurried toward the small charging station where I was forced to leave my phone during work hours. My hands trembled as I picked it up and rushed back to them. With shaking fingers, I unlocked the screen and opened the banking app.
There it was, a balance of fifty thousand dollars. My heart froze as I stared at the screen. The numbers blurred before my eyes, the zeros mocking me. I hadn't touched my phone in days. It was impossible.
"See?" Jane said flatly, triumph creeping into her voice. A small, cruel smile played at the corners of her lips as she stood tall. "I told you."
"I didn't do this," I whispered, tears finally spilling over as I sank back to my knees. "I don't know how that got there. I never sent that money!"
Mrs. Ragnar stepped in front of Jane, shielding her as if I were a threat. "Jane, sweetheart, don't cry," she cooed. "You don't have to explain anything. You have that date with Beta, don't you? Go on, I'll handle this. Mommy always fixes things."
She leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Jane's forehead. "Take my credit card," she told her. "Go buy that new designer bag you've been eyeing the one that just came out. You need to look your best for Desmond. Now go."
Jane took the card, a look of pure satisfaction crossing her face. She gave me one final, triumphant glance , a sneer of victory for her eyes alone then simply turned and strode away. The click of her heels faded down the hallway as she left me alone with the Ragnars.
I sat up shakily. "Wait is she really just going to walk away?" I called after her, voice high and trembling. "She's lying! She's the one who did this!"
"Lying?" Mrs. Ragnar hissed, whipping around to face me. "The proof is right there on your screen, you ungrateful thief. What else is she supposed to do sit here and watch you cry all night? Now go, Jane. Don't let this liar ruin your evening."
Jane was already gone. Mrs. Ragnar turned back to me, her face as hard as stone. "You are a thief," she spat. "A parasite. We took you from that miserable orphanage, and we gave you a name. We gave you a roof over your head. And this is how you repay our generosity?"
In that moment, something inside me ,stretched thin for thirteen long years finally snapped. The fear didn't vanish, but it was overwhelmed by a sudden, searing heat burning through me. I rose to my feet without waiting for permission. Straightening my spine, I looked Mrs. Ragnar directly in the eyes.
"Generosity?" I repeated, voice trembling with rage. "You call this generosity? You didn't adopt me; you bought me. You needed a maid you didn't have to pay, and the orphanage was more than happy to sell me. I clean this entire house from top to bottom every single day. I cook every meal. And what do I get for it? I'm called a thief. I get beaten. I get starved."
Mr. Ragnar's face turned red, and his hand moved toward the buckle of his belt. "What did you just say?" he growled.
I didn't flinch. I took a step toward him, voice steady and loud. "I said you never wanted a daughter. You wanted a servant. You believe her because she's yours, but you never even asked for my side of the story. You looked for any excuse to hurt me. You call yourselves parents, but you're nothing but jailers."
The words poured out of me, hot and raw truth finally breaking through a decade of silence. And in that moment, for the first time since I had entered this house, I didn't feel like a victim. I felt like a person.