The injustice

The sunlight pierced through the wide glass window, blazing against Quinn's face with such intensity that she stirred awake, her eyelids fluttering open. She hissed as she lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the brightness flooding the room.

Groaning, she turned to face the other side, rolling around on the king-sized bed.

"Ahhhhh..." She yawned lightly, her hand reaching toward the bedside table, tapping around before finally finding her phone.

Rubbing her eyes, she tapped the screen twice, and it lit up. She immediately sat up once she saw the time displayed.

"12:05 in the afternoon already?" she muttered, her voice thick and groggy as she rested her head against the headboard, yawning again with her hand covering her red lips. "I've never woken up this late in my entire life, probably 'cause I slept so late last night..."

Her expression turned a little frosty as the incident from the day before clouded her mind. The weight of it was so heavy on her chest that last night, she rolled around on the bed for a long while, feeling absolutely shitty about herself.

At some point, she started thinking the problem was with her. Maybe she shouldn't have tried to hold Amy while asking what was wrong with her. Maybe she should've left her alone. Maybe she should've pretended she didn't see Amy and Dylan badmouthing her. Maybe she should've endured it like Olenna said. And maybe she was indeed brash, rude, and hateful like Olenna claimed... maybe she shouldn't have talked back to Olenna and called her an unreliable parent. Maybe if she hadn't done all she did, she wouldn't have lost the relationship she had with them.

Because right then, her life felt absolutely messed up.

But all she needed was a reminder that she basically had no relationship with them. Because if she did, her fiancé wouldn't have accused her with no evidence but a one-sided report from her little sister. Nor would her mother have thought that asking for an apology after being mistreated was her being inconsiderate and brash. Nor would her biological father not know what her favorite color was when a huge percentage of her wardrobe was filled with clothing in the three colors she liked the most—even her evening gowns came in those colors. And nor would the little sister she cherished envy her because she did better than her and would talk badly about her to others. All of those wounds hurt equally and deeply.

She felt like an absolute joke and trash.

She spent the night assuring herself she wasn't the one in the wrong. That she was right and true and was only demanding what should be given to her, and that her feelings and emotions were justified.

The assurance worked a bit, probably. However, her frustration at being misunderstood was still as high as ever.

"A new day, a new energy." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, getting out of bed.

Wearing her slippers, she made her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. The cold water splashing against her skin brought her some clarity, but the emptiness remained, lodged deep within her even though she had decided not to be her miserable self.

She also unwrapped the bandage since her hand had stopped hurting, and it wasn't swollen anymore. The school ointment worked. Of course, it would; it was specifically created by the top researchers in the school and existed within the school only.

As she towel-dried her face, her stomach rumbled loudly like someone was waging war inside. She placed a hand over her belly with a sigh. "I should go eat something. I missed breakfast already, and it's almost time for lunch, too."

Quinn left her room, making her way downstairs.

She could see two maids speaking in hushed voices, and she raised a brow in curiosity.

"What are they talking about?" Apparently, they didn't hear her footsteps, or they would've run with their heels behind them. After all, if caught gossiping about their employer or talking when they were supposed to be working, they might get punished.

"I wish I were her. She's so lucky," one of them muttered, a hint of envy apparent in her tone.

"What are they talking about?" Quinn thought.

"Yes... To be valued and loved is so sweet."

"Whatever." Realizing she couldn't understand what they were on about, Quinn continued walking to the kitchen.

She needed to grab some snacks before lunch.

The two maids noticed her, and their eyes went wide as they immediately turned around and pretended to be doing something.

"That was expected," Quinn smiled as she continued walking forward. But before she could enter the kitchen, she paused mid-step.

Another group of maids was talking, but not quietly as she could hear them clearly.

"Miss Amy is so lucky. Madam Olenna really values her so much."

Another one chorused, "I heard the car was exactly the same as Miss Quinn's, same color and same type. I heard it's expensive as fuck. Probably around $200,000, if not more! To be loved so loudly."

"At this point, I'm wishing so badly that I'm born into a rich household in my next life where they could just whip me and my sister two luxury sports cars."

At first, it didn't make sense to Quinn, but when it started making sense, her face paled.

It can't be true.

It can't be true...

It can't be true!

Without another thought, she immediately ran to the garage, her heart racing so badly it felt like it might jump out of her chest.

And there... She saw it... Her panting subconsciously stopped.

Right there was an identical Porsche Turbo Cabriolet to hers, similar in everything.