Dad put his glass down with a clink and glared at the butler. “She’s been in there long enough to tire herself out from screaming.
“There’s food, water, and air conditioning in there. If she still won’t admit her faults, then she doesn’t deserve to be let out.”
The butler seemed to have more to say, but Dad cut him off sharply. “That’s enough. We’re eating dinner here. Let’s not ruin the mood.”
He waved dismissively before adding, “After dinner, you can ask her if she’s willing to apologize. If she apologizes to her sister, she can come out, and the punishment’s over.”
As if I had already been erased from his mind, Dad turned his attention to his son Ian and adopted daughter Wendy.
He reached out, placing a peeled prawn into Wendy’s bowl.
“What’s wrong, Wendy? Why aren’t you eating?
“You love prawns, right? Eat more.” He ruffled her hair affectionately.
“Are you scared?
“Don’t worry. I’ve already punished Jennifer. She’ll never dare bully you again.”
Wendy looked up, her innocent smile shining. “I know you love me the most, Dad.
“Honestly, as long as she apologizes, I’ll forgive her…
“But now that she’s being punished, I’m worried she’ll hate me even more.”
“She wouldn’t dare!” Dad growled, his anger unmistakable.
Then his expression softened as he smiled at her gently. “You’re my favorite daughter. She wouldn’t dare hate you.”
Ian grinned and chimed in reassuringly, “Don’t worry, Wendy! I’ll protect you! I’ll chop her hands off if she ever dares to bully you again!”
I couldn’t suppress a laugh at the irony of Dad’s words, but Ian’s declaration sent a chill through me.
I hadn’t expected my brother to make such a horrifying promise, and the cruelty in his eyes told me he wasn’t joking.
It was bone-chilling.
I laughed aloud, but it was a shame no one heard me.
I was dead.
My spirit had only been able to leave the storage room after I died. Since then, I’d been drifting, watching everything unfold from above.
From my bird’s eye view, I could see how the storage room door had been sealed. The only ventilation—a small hole—had been blocked with a towel.
The storage room had become my coffin.
I hadn’t been buried alive, but I might as well have been.
