Feral Thoughts

Sierra's driver, a middle-aged man, hurriedly opened the back seat door for her as she stormed over, her delicate fair face enhanced with soft makeup pulled up in a grim scowl.

She got into the car, and the door closed behind her. A few moments later, the driver's door opened and the man got in, closed it, and started driving.

In the back, Sierra's frown didn't ease; it only got worse as she turned on her phone and went to the comment section. She only needed to scan her eyes over it to get the gist of what everyone was saying.

Her fingers tightened around her phone as her gaze went back to the message Erisia wrote before the video. Her mind flashed to the slap at the pool and the words she had hurled after that.

Just then, a notification popped up—a tagged post on X. Scowling, she tapped on it, and it took her straight to the post.

~•~

{@ErisiaWrenford

Hello. This is Erisia Wrenford. If you've seen the message and still have questions, let me make this simple: the only answers you're getting are already in that video.

And for those still defending Sierra—or for the loyal sheep who follow her blindly—you can keep being the brainless little pawns that you are. I won't waste my time addressing any of you.

Here's what I will say: everything that happened at the Altheorn family mansion is in that footage. That's the truth. Unedited..

To those who were present at that birthday party—you're disgusting. I fell into the pool trying to save my ungrateful sister. I hit my head. I almost drowned. And while I was struggling, you all rushed to save her—the one who staged the entire scene.

If I hadn't dragged myself out, I'd be dead. And none of you would've cared. You'd just be telling stories about the 'evil adopted daughter' who got what she deserved.

Next time, before you flap your mouths and fumble out your takes, strain your ears. Learn more. Speak less.

You can say I've changed. That I'm not the same Erisia anymore. You'd be right. I won't be tolerating anything from anyone—especially not from people who want my life to be miserable.

So, that's all. I'll be back when the next scandal drops, which I have a feeling isn't far off.

This account is active now. And if you're only following me to hate—I won't block you. I simply don't care enough.}

~•~

Her expression twisted from angry to feral in a second. She wanted nothing more than to tear Erisia apart, limb by limb.

That worthless, stupid bitch!

How dare she?

But first—how?! How had Erisia gotten the footage? How the hell was it possible?! Sierra owed a favor to the youngest daughter of the Altheorns just to get that clip. She'd even sent someone to bribe the guards to leak that short segment. Yet somehow, Erisia had a cleaner, high-definition version and full context?!

FUCK. What was she going to do?

She hadn't seen this coming. Not from her. Not from the pathetic shell of a girl who once trailed behind the family like a kicked puppy.

She had changed. A lot.

Was it the fall into the pool? Was it the near-death experience? Or had something been festering in her long before that?

Sierra shut her eyes and inhaled deeply to calm herself.

It didn't matter.

Changed or not—Erisia was still the adopted stray they had brought home to everyone else. No affection or love. The Wrenfords only kept her out of guilt and shallow sentiment. Sierra was still their beloved daughter. Even if they were not related by blood, she was more treasured than her brothers. So how could Erisia compare? 

Let Erisia change as much as she wants.

It wouldn't matter. She will continue to be seen as the unloved, ungrateful, and cruel adopted daughter.

Sierra narrowed her eyes. She'd make that girl regret ever crawling out of that pool.

But first—this had to be kept quiet. Her mother and brother must not see the post. Not yet.

She looked up and said, "If you see a pharmacy, stop there. I need to get something."

"Alright, Young Miss," the driver replied. He glanced at her through the mirror—caught a glimpse of her feral expression—and quickly looked forward again, more attentive to the road than ever.

Soon, the car slowed in front of a pharmacy. Sierra stepped out, walked inside, and scanned the store.

Her eyes locked on a row of eye drops, lined up neatly on a middle shelf. She grabbed one, strode over to the cashier, and paid without bothering to take her change.

She exited, got into the car, and once they were back on the road, she opened the eye drops.

She tilted her head back and poured a generous amount into each eye, blinking and staring wide-eyed at her reflection until her sclera turned glassy and red—like she'd been sobbing for hours.

Sierra turned on her camera and studied her reflection.

Perfect.

It was enough to make her mother believe she'd cried herself into heartbreak.

⸻

The black Bentley glided up the Wrenford mansion's long driveway and rolled to a stop. Sierra stepped out, squeezing another drop into each eye just before the door opened.

Sniffling, she wiped at her face roughly with her sleeve and began walking toward the entrance—her head bowed, her posture fragile.

As she crossed the grand foyer, her steps slow and heavy, Mrs. Wrenford came out of the living room, holding a glass of juice. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw her daughter.

"Sierra! You're back so early. Didn't you say you'd be out until dinner?" she called, smiling warmly. "What happened?"

Sierra didn't answer. She kept walking—shoulders hunched, hand dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

Selena frowned. "Sierra?" she called again, this time with concern. She moved toward her daughter quickly. "Darling, what happened? Are you alright?"

Sierra stopped, inhaled deeply, then turned to face her mother. Her voice was soft, strained. "Hey, Mom… nothing's wrong. We just… they had something to do, so we agreed to meet some other time."

Mrs. Wrenford's frown deepened. "Really? Are you sure? You look… You look like you've been crying."

She stepped closer and peered at her daughter's flushed face and puffy eyes. Her expression twisted in alarm. "Sierra, were you crying? Why is your face so red? Your eyes—" She looked down at Sierra's sleeve and saw the damp patches. "Sierra, what happened?!"

She cupped Sierra's cheeks with both hands, her voice rising with panic. "Did someone hurt you? Tell me. You're scaring me."

Sierra whimpered, "I-It's nothing, Mom. I just… It's nothing."