*Bonus Chapter*

I groggily opened my eyes, the dim lantern hanging above my head.

The light moved about, the uneven flame casting weird shadows across the walls of my room.

My head throbbed, a dull, splitting pain that felt as though someone had cracked my skull in two.

My throat was dry, and my body ached as though every bone had been constantly hit with a hammer.

For a moment, I stayed still, my back pressed against the cold wall of the room.

The world around me seemed to be spinning, and I fought the wave of nausea that surged up from my stomach.

My arms felt really heavy as I pushed myself up, the motion sending a sharp, stinging pain on my sides where bruises bloomed beneath my tattered suit.

I blinked, trying to focus, but the hazy room around me seemed to sway and tilt.

The wooden planks of the floor creaked under me as I struggled to my feet, my legs trembling beneath my weight.

It was as if the entire room had become a ship, swaying on running waters. My hands shot out instinctively, gripping the nightstand in front of me for support.

Just then, I heard a loud thud on the floor. Looking down, I realised that the 'ancient book' kept on it had fallen. 

Letting it be, I walked towards the bed. My gaze locked onto the transparent bottle resting on the corner of my bed, filled to the brim with water. 

It did not take long for my nose to pick up on something.

The rancid smell of trash and liquid waste hit me next. My torn and dirty suit was filled with sweat, blood, and the dampness of the streets.

I didn't need a mirror to know how awful I looked. The dried blood on my knuckles and the dirt painted across my face told the story well enough.

My fists clenched weakly, a flicker of anger lighting within me but dying as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind the familiar emptiness.

With great effort, I walked towards the bed.

My mouth felt like sandpaper, and the thought of quenching my thirst was the only thing keeping me moving.

Each step felt heavier than the last as I dragged my feet across the floor.

Finally, I reached the bed and picked up the bottle with trembling hands. The cool glass felt like a blessing against my palms. Unscrewing the cap, I brought it to my lips and chugged greedily.

The water rushed down my throat, soothing the raw, dry ache there.

It was almost too much, too fast, and I coughed mid-swallow, some of it spilling down my chin and soaking into the collar of my suit.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, leaning heavily against the nightstand beside my bed.

The rough edges of the wood dug into my side, but I didn't care. My head hung low as I tried to catch my breath.

The world still felt as if it were spinning, but the water helped a little. At least now I wasn't completely thirsty.

I straightened up slightly, my eyes scanning the room. It was just as I'd left it the night before—messy and suffocating.

The scattered sheets of paper on the table, the tilted inkpot, the rumpled sheets on the bed…

Everything was as it had been, and yet it felt heavier now, like the room itself carried the weight of my memories.

And then, those memories rushed forward, uncalled for and unwelcome.

The sneering faces of the boys who had cornered me yesterday loomed large in my mind. Their mocking laughter echoed in my ears, sharp and cruel.

My stomach twisted as I remembered the blows raining down on me, their fists and feet strong as they hurled insults with each strike.

"You think you're better than us just because you're more smart?" one of them had spat, his face twisted in contempt.

I had tried to fight back, but it was useless. I was outnumbered, outmatched.

They'd torn at my clothes, shoved me into a large trash can, and left me there—broken and humiliated.

It left me breathless just remembering how their voices were filled with nothing but disdain.

"You will never amount to anything more than a nanny's pet—"

Those words pierced through me again and again, crude and sharp as if they had only just been spoken.

My hands gripped the edge of the nightstand tightly as my knuckles turned white.

My chest moved up and down, the familiar warmth of tears covering my vision once more.

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the memories, but they only grew louder, and more vivid.

The helplessness, the shame, the anger… It all came rushing back, suffocating me.

For what felt like an eternity, I stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move or breathe. 

The room was silent except for the ragged sound of my breathing.

The dim light from the lantern flickered above me, casting restless shadows that seemed to mock my turmoil.

I tried to steady myself, to push the emotions down and bury them deep where they couldn't hurt me anymore.

But it was no use.

Their words had hit me too deeply.

The sting of the pain was numbing, but it did not erase the echoes of their laughter or the venom in their words.

I'd always known that being cast out of the clan would make life harder, but I hadn't expected this.

I hadn't expected to feel so weak, so powerless.

Here I was, holed in a tiny room of a city that didn't care about me, wearing a suit that reeked of a loser.

I raised my head and looked around the room again, my eyes lingering on each detail. The battered table, the scratched chair, the warped window…

This place was supposed to be a fresh start, a sanctuary away from the Romero estate.

But it felt like a cage, a reminder of everything I had lost..when my parents had died.

But losing everything wasn't what haunted me to death every 24th Of December.

It had been 8 years since the accident happened and yet..I could never forget the fact th-that

My parents died because of me.

***