5

"When your mother and I discovered that we were expecting a daughter after three sons, we were overjoyed at the prospect of having you. We decorated the nursery, and bought countless toys and dollhouses in anticipation of your arrival," my father shares, pausing for a moment before continuing, "We never intended to give you up, but the thought did cross my mind. Your life was in danger... there are certain things of which you are unaware."

I cross my arms over my chest, insisting, "But I need to know. I have the right to." Jack gazes at me, silently urging me to remain quiet. However, anger courses through my veins, and I snort, "How could you simply abandon your own child? Was I the only one discarded, while your sons were kept?"

My father fixes me with a blank stare, and Steve clears his throat, the tension in the room escalating. Summoning his resolve, my father admits, "I acknowledge my error. I chose to ensure your survival... If you had stayed with us, you might not be alive today." I scoff, disbelieving every word that escapes his lips.

Phil signals for the servants to depart as the atmosphere in the room grows tense. 

Confident in my choice of words, I am unbothered by the potential hurt they may cause. Having endured hurt and loneliness throughout my life, it is now their turn to experience some of my pain.

I rise to my feet, my voice ringing with anger, "A true parent never abandons their child. You could have protected me if only you dared to do so!" My brothers stand as well, their faces reflecting astonishment at my unfiltered outburst. 

My father begins to breathe heavily, his gaze fixed on me, his expression one of profound disappointment.

"Enough!" a commanding voice interjects, drawing our collective attention. I turn my gaze to the end of the dining hall, where a male figure stands, his eyes coldly fixed on me.

My brothers rush to Warren Sinclair, who is both my father. My attention shifts to the figure entering the room, approaching me with purpose. "Is that how you address your father?" his stern voice sends shivers down my spine.

And the next moment passes by, I feel myself completely vulnerable. He is standing close to me, towering above me. Everyone in this family is tall. I gulp nervously and his attention shifts from me to my father sitting on the chair. 

“Are you doing alright, brother? Do you want me to call the doctor?” he inquires and I turn around to see my brothers are helping my father become calm. My father’s gaze settles on me and for a moment my heart sinks, realizing that this man could be my everything yet he means nothing to me. 

I have this urge to ask for his forgiveness but he is the one who should be asking that. I get this judging look by all of these men except my dad. With heavy breathing, he tries to talk to me. “I - never - meant to - “ he can barely talk and I stand there, frozen in my place. 

The man who was just scolding me turns to give me a cold stare and utters, “Go back to your room! I will deal with you later!” my mind is processing when I hear him roaring out a name. “Samantha!” 

The house manager comes running and she gently grabs my arm, begging me to leave with her. Taking one look at my father, I turn to climb the stairs, leaving them alone. Once I arrive back into my room, I sit on the edge of the bed, looking at Samantha. 

“What happened to him?” I question and she sighs deeply, standing in my way. “Mr. Sinclair has anxiety.” I stop, realizing that I might have said a little extra… something that I shouldn’t have. 

Samantha sits on the sofa chair, looking at me with empathy. “Let me tell you something about this house, Raya,” she says to me and I silently look at her, wondering what she has to say. I have regret deep in my heart and my mind is swirling with thoughts.

What if something happens to my father because of me? 

Who was that man who silenced me all of a sudden? 

What if they kick me out of here? 

Where am I going to go then? 

After chatting with Samantha for a while, I feel weary and decide to take a shower. “I will run the bath for you -” she says to me and I nod, walking passing the huge closet.. She smiles at me and utters, “These are different dresses selected especially for you. Your father would appreciate it if you started wearing those.”

I am already drowning in regret and wearing those dresses might make my father’s mood a little better. When Samantha leaves, I am sitting in the bathtub, letting the bubbles surround me but my mind drifts somewhere between the mocking and mean behavior to my father. 

My words echo in my ears and I sigh deeply.

Exiting the washroom with a towel draped around my chest, I enter the closet and peruse the array of dresses, contemplating what to wear. These garments are worth hundreds, even thousands of dollars, with original designer pieces adorning the racks, untouched and awaiting my selection.

Do I need to feel grateful? 

Will I be jolted awake from this seeming dream too? 

Are my biological family deserving of my trust and affection? 

Will I face heartbreak and abandonment from them once more?

Amidst these ponderings, I return to the present moment, selecting a night dress adorned with a floral print, I finally walk back into my room. 

Just then the door of the room pushes open and a figure enters. His sharp gaze settles onto me and my breath hitches, realizing I am only in my towel. I feel his glares undressing me, piercing through my soul.

I clutch the towel tightly onto my chest, watching him approach me. “I heard that you are a spoiled brat. Aren't you?” he cocks a brow. “Well, suit yourself…because I love to tame the spoiled ones.” 

I feel all the hair on my body rising with fear, my eyes locking with his.