Mr Ragnar's hand finally left his belt.
For a split second, I thought he was going to stop. I thought maybe, just maybe, something human would flicker in his eyes. Instead, the belt came flying through the air and landed squarely on my face.
Pain exploded.
I screamed without sound as my hands flew up in shock. Tears poured down instantly, hot and uncontrollable. The force knocked my bun loose and my red hair fell around my face in a messy curtain. The more I touched my cheek, the more it burned, a sharp sting that made my fingers tremble. My lips parted as I sucked in air and that was when I tasted blood. Warm. Metallic.
I lifted my eyes slowly and looked at him.
Mr Ragnar turned away.
He could not look at me.
That hurt more than the belt.
I was still crying when Mrs Ragnar stepped forward, her heels clicking calmly against the floor as if nothing extraordinary had just happened.
Then she laughed.
A loud, mocking laugh that echoed through the house.
"Serves you right," she said, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes. "You are completely crazy. Do you know that every family that came to the orphanage rejected you? Every single one. They said you were cursed or sick. And yet we brought you here. Still you are so ungrateful."
She raised her hand and pinched her little finger close to her thumb, pointing it at me like I was something small and disgusting.
"Everywhere you go, you are rejected," she continued. "At eighteen, your so called mate rejected you because you have no scent. And now look at you. Pretending to be important after stealing from us. Just because you are pretty. You are nothing but a filthy maid."
Her eyes swept over me with pure disgust.
"If only we had known, we would have left you in that orphanage. What do you even help with? You are useless. You have no inner voice. Not human. Not wolf. Nothing. Nothing at all. You are a disgrace to our kind."
Each word hit harder than the belt.
She turned her back on me and walked toward her husband, already done with me.
"Throw her out," she said casually. "After taking back the money. I am tired of her. Just because she does little chores, she thinks she owns this house."
Little chores.
The words echoed in my head as I stared at the floor, biting back the sob that threatened to tear out of me.
Mr Ragnar nodded as if she had just given an instruction at work.
I swallowed hard, my chest aching.
"You have always wanted to do that," I said quietly, my voice breaking. "Now go ahead. Throw me out. I do not blame you. I blame myself. I blame myself for being cursed."
The tears came again, unstoppable, blurring everything around me. Just minutes ago, my life had been moving the same way it always did. Wake up. Clean. Serve. Endure. Now, I was being discarded like trash.
"Max," Mr Ragnar suddenly called.
My heart sank.
"Beat the hell out of her," he said coldly. "I can see the beating I gave her is not enough. She is still being disrespectful. Beat her and throw her and her belongings out after recovering the money she stole."
His voice hardened even more.
"I cannot believe I doubted you. I wanted to side you at least once. But you showed your true self."
Something inside me shattered completely.
They really did not care.
I was never a daughter. I was a tool. Something they could use and discard whenever it pleased them. And maybe I really was cursed. Why else would no one ever love me? Why else would my life end like this?
I cried silently inside my heart as Max stepped forward.
My brother.
He hesitated at first. I saw it. For a moment, he did not want to touch me. But when his father threatened to throw him out too, something changed in his eyes.
He raised his foot.
I barely had time to react before he stomped on me. I curled into myself instantly, my hands flying up to protect my face. My face was the only thing I had left. The only thing that had ever earned me a second glance from the world.
Pain tore through my body as I hit the floor.
When he was done, Max grabbed my arm roughly. He took the money back from my account without even looking at me. Then he dragged me toward the door and threw me outside into the rain.
Cold water soaked me instantly.
He flung five hundred dollars at my feet like scraps meant for a beggar.
"If we ever see you around this family again," Mr Ragnar's voice rang out from inside the living room, "Jane or this compound, we will file a report. Consider yourself lucky we did not take you to the station for theft."
The door slammed shut.
I was alone.
The rain poured down heavily, washing over my bruised face, my soaked uniform, my shattered heart. Over the years, they had accused me of stealing and countless other things I never did. I should have left long ago. I knew that. But where would I have gone?
Even now, I had nowhere.
The orphanage was miles away. And even if I made it there, they might not take me back. I hugged myself tightly and whispered that maybe this was how it was always meant to be. I was born to leave someday.
I forced myself to stand.
Dragging my bag with me, I walked to the garage and caught my reflection in the mirror. My blue eyes were red and swollen. My red hair clung wetly to my face. My amulet pendant was hidden beneath my clothes, pressed against my skin like the only secret that was still mine.
I was still wearing the black and white uniform Mrs Ragnar made me wear while working.
I tried to smile.
Instead, more tears fell.
My lips were bruised. My cheek burned. My body ached everywhere Max had stomped on me. I had protected my face because I could not afford hospital bills. I could not afford scars. Not now.
I stepped out into the rain and began to walk.
I had no friends. No home. Nowhere else to go.
Then I remembered the motel down the street.
Cheap. Questionable. But it was shelter.
At least I could sleep for the night. The money would only last me three days including food, so I had to be careful. Maybe the motel would have a first aid kit. I could clean my wounds so they would not get infected and leave scars.
As I walked, rain soaking me completely, a black car suddenly sped toward me, far too fast. Panic shot through me and I ran from the roadside, almost slipping and falling. The car rushed past anyway, splashing dirty water from the pavement all over my body.
I stood there drenched, shaking, staring at the disappearing taillights.