Years of suppressed rage.

After three more days, for the last time consulting with Dr. John about her health, they got into the car ready to go home.

Rose glanced outside of the car window; she was captivated by the picturesque winter landscape unfolding before her eyes. The city 'Orlenna' lay blanketed in the pristine layer of the snow, glistening under the soft, golden hues of the morning sun. Every inch seemed touched by winter's magic, the crystalline snowflake casting a radiant glow across the cityscape. Amidst this wintry land, the scene outside spoke of joy and merriment. Groups of people, bundled in cozy winter outfit, joyously engaged in playful snowball fights along the roadside. Laughter echoed amidst the cold air as the playful banter filled the atmosphere.

The city itself exuded opulence and prosperity. Towering skyscrapers stood majestically, their reflective surfaces mirroring the surrounding beauty. Lush, meticulously maintained greenery provided a protective embrace around this grand structure, creating an oasis within the urban jungle. Yet, amidst this splendor, Rose couldn't shake the truth that this city catered primarily to the affluent. Its magnificence seemed tailored for those who thrived in wealth, leaving little room for everyone else to truly experience its allure.

In her previous life, the notion of wealth held little allure, and her desires were far from extravagant. She embraced a tranquil existence, yearning for a simple life, avoiding entanglement with adversity. Yet, as circumstances now evolve, the thought of her previous life seems invaluable. This time, she yearns to soar to greater heights, imbuing herself with wisdom, rendering her beyond reproach and questioning.

At that precise moment, Jack delicately placed a chocolate bar in Rose's hands, his eyes keenly observant of her pensive demeanor. "You seem lost in very deep thought, dear sister. What are you thinking?" Jack inquired, sensing a subtle peculiarity in Rose's demeanor since their encounter at the hospital. An enigmatic aura surrounded her, an indefinable peculiarity that eluded his precise understanding.

Engulfed in a reverie before the chocolate bar landed softly in her grasp, Rose was abruptly pulled back to the present by Jack's inquiry. Her lips tightened, betraying an underlying unease. "I'm worried about how Grandpa and Grandma might react if we inquire," She confided, her voice tinged with a hint of worry. "What if they disapprove of me? Could they do harm again?" Her head shook fervently, a vehement denial of the distressing prospect. A gnawing realization lingered within Rose- her grandparents gave unparalleled attention on her cousin Boyle, who emerged unscathed from the same ordeal that had befallen her. Was this the extent of the affection reserved for her in her past life, an unsettling question that lingered, clouding her thoughts, mocking herself. This is the truth, Rose, you must keep in mind.

Jack struggled to contain his brewing anger toward his relatives. But as Rose said, he realizes the complex web of problem before them. As he pondered over the possibility of separation, a wave of nervousness washed over him. These were not just any relatives; they possessed tongue as sharp as razors. The Amber mansion held profound significance, intricately woven into the family history-originating from his father's real mother, Sarah, who tragically passed away not long after giving birth to their father. Every brick, every ornament reflected his father's devoted investment to make it stay same as left by his mother, not just financially but emotionally. Yet, over this legacy, lurked the shadow of Steve Amber, the successful yet notoriously frugal second son, whose penurious nature made him wince at the thought of parting with even a penny. The entire family relied heavily on his father's resources, making it seem almost inconceivable that they would entertain the act of separation, given their tightfisted and covetous nature.

Worry etched across his face, he furrowed his brows, lost in deep contemplation. Sensing his distress, Rose's finger gently intervened with his, her voice laced with concern as she reassured him. "Brother, don't think too much. Everything will be fine. If they choose not to offer an explanation, it's alright. I'm truly fine with it. There's no need for them to explain; after all, I was the one who inadvertently stirred up this trouble."

Jack's gaze lingered upon his once-younger sister, now transformed into an adult who bore the weight of her own worries without burdening others. Though they had tormented her, she endured it silently, opting to bury the issue rather than raise concerns. However, Jack knew the perilous situation she would face if she remained in their company-her condition, CIPA, made any further interaction with them will certainly result in another unknown disaster. It's a gamble, which, they dare not make. The compulsion to sever ties with them surged within him, an urgency far more potent than ever before.

With determination countenance, both father and mother arrived at the same resolute decision. Moreover, after looking for few days, they already knew the culprit of previous incident. It shocked them greatly that a child with merely ten-year-old can scheme. She is clearly Boyle. Their mind and heart cannot help but feel that this is not the first time the child had done something like this. Boyle is too cunning to the point telling those reporters to go abroad with huge sum of money. If Leo had not had this long reach, then they would have lost this information and mindlessly search the city and doubt everyone. Rose recognized the subtle yet significant shift in their demeanor. As the weight of their decision settled, a wave of relief washed over her, observing the firmness in their expression. With assurance from their united stance, Rose finally allowed herself a moment of relaxation, grateful for the outcome she had managed to shape.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at Amber's grand mansion, a place that held the memories of Rose's birth and untimely departure. The sight of this opulent estate, part of the prestigious five great and stunning villas each owned by distinct families, struck her profoundly. Beyond the gates, an avenue flanked by three ornate fountains welcomed them, their pristine white structures standing out against the backdrop of a winter garden adorned with resplendent roses, exuding an ethereal beauty.

Pulling the car to a halt alongside the entrance, they alighted from the car. As Rose stepped onto the grounds, a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions consumed her-anger simmered, pain throbbed, sadness lingered, and awe swept through her in alternating waves. The sheer enormity of the Villa loomed over them, its grandeur accentuated by the tranquil surroundings, painting a picture of serenity that belied the turbulent emotions within. Each detail. from the vast expanse of the estate to the picturesque scenery enveloping it, spoke volumes of its exorbitant worth.

In that precise moment, the distinct sound of footsteps echoed, signaling the arrival of four individuals. Positioned squarely at the entrance their countenances etched with anger, stood formidable quartet. Emma Jayson, Boyle's mother, exuded an aura of elegance, draped in a resplendent peach-pink dress that accentuated her beauty. Her presence, though graceful, resonated with unspeakable air of displeasure. Beside her stood Steve Amber, her husband, his demeanor mirroring his wife's vexation. A man of mature years, around fifty-sixty, Rose recognized Boyle's grandparents. Despite staying within home, they were adorned in attire that exuded richness, an indication to their status and wealth. Each of them wore their fury like a perfectly arranged mask, their expressions tightly controlled.

Rose, however, met their ire with a serene composure, silently observing them without any intent to engage or speak. She knew their penchant for exploding in anger first, and she was determined to test the limits of their ability to sustain this facade.

A tense silence lingered, Boyle's mother, Emma, couldn't contain her impatience any longer. Her voice usually poised and composed carried an anger as she addressed Rose's family. " Brother-in-law, sister-in-law," She began, her tone crisp and cold. an edge of accusation evident, "We demand an explanation for Boyle's fall into that freezing pond. Boyle is still unwell, and it's hard to fathom how young Rose could be so callous as to push her into the freezing water."

Boyle's father, joining the fray without giving anyone a moment to interject, repeating Emma's sentiment, his tone accusatory. "I have always ensured equal treatment for both Rose and Boyle," He asserted firmly, his gaze fixated on Rose. "Boyle is the eldest sibling, and the action of Rose pushing our little girl into that freezing pond is unintelligible. Such an action warrants punishment. It's disheartening to think that Rose harbors ill intentions towards our daughter. A little girl like her is capable of such dangerous laughable." He portrait Rose as evil and grim person.

Catherine's fury erupted like a tempest, her voice echoing, as she hurled her words with obvious indignation. "What are you insinuating, sister-in-law? Brother-in-law? How dare you feign ignorance! Do you truly believe our Rose, would push Boyle into the icy depths of the pond? Your shameful accusation reeks of deceit! It was your Boyle who enticed Rose to the edge of the pond, yet you stand here, shamelessly pointing fingers without an ounce of remorse of your daughter's role in this happening!" Catherine's disgust was visible, her every word a searing condemnation of their hypocrisy.

A heavy silence hung in the air, Leo's disappointment etched itself across his face, his lips parting to voice his dismay. But before he could utter a word, the grandfather's voice thundered through the room, commanding attention. "Catherine" his voice boomed, "You mustn't direct such ferocity toward your elder kin. However, concerning this incident, it is Rose who should be blamed. Boyle is a sensible child; she could never stoop to such vile actions." His words were stern, carrying the weight of authority, alone with disappointment.

Along with him, grandmother also said, “Leo" she murmured, her words followed, "It is your responsibility to guide and discipline your wife and children. Such display of disrespect cannot be permeated beyond these walls. Allowing these unfilial acts to seep outside will only tarnish Amber's family name." Her gentle reminder seemed to be an indication that Leo and his family is not properly managed.

Emma and Steve, standing tall, exude an air of confidence and satisfaction, their faces decorated with proud smiles that seem to echo the wisdom and approval of the elders behind them.

In a moment of eerie silence, Leo, known for his usually calm demeanor, felt a hurricane of anger. His voice, usually soft-spoken, rose to a crescendo with a biting undertone, as his words dripping with sarcasm and frustration. "How in the world are you all so absolutely certain that Rose caused the fall, not Boyle?" His words were like a sharp blade cutting through the tension in the room. "The head of the Amber family, known for their protectiveness, decides without a shred of evidence? You prioritize defending Boyle, who's merely battling a fever, while turned blind eye to Rose, who was left bleeding from her head and didn't receive an ounce of concern from you all at the hospital!" Leo's frustration mounted, his voice gaining intensity, "And now you have the audacity to demand an explanation from us? Both I and Catherine entrusted Rose into your care, hoping that despite your possible dislike for us, you wouldn't exhibit such cruelty toward a mere nine-year-old child. Yet, your reactions have proven my assumption wrong. Shouldn't Mr. and Mrs. be the ones accountable, explaining themselves to us?"

Leo's manner had always been a battleground of restraint emotions, especially when facing his father and stepmother, the very individuals responsible for his mother's demise. Despite his rage, he managed to contain his anger, shielding it behind the composed presence. However, this time, a line had been crossed, breaching the boundaries of his enduring tolerance. The pent-up fury that is calm for years now erupted. His usually indifferent manner shattered, revealing the seething resentment and deep-seated anguish that had long festered within him. It wasn't just the accusation against Rose; it was the culmination of years of suppressed rage and sorrow that finally overflowed, directed not only at the unjust accusations but also at the ones who had torn apart his world.