Chapter 7

"That wretched girl dared not cook?" Clara White yanked open the pot lid, her chest tightening at the sight of the empty iron pot.

Maya White had been lounging in her room but bolted into the kitchen at the commotion. "Impossible! I saw Luna go in there myself!" She stamped her foot in frustration.

Jack White kicked over a washbasin, the deafening clang silencing the entire household.

"You were told to cook, and you slacked off!" Clara jabbed a finger at Maya, though she knew the truth—Maya had shirked her duty the moment Luna woke up. Hadn’t she considered the same?

Maya retorted defiantly, "Who knew she’d grow such a spine? Eating our food, living under our roof, and acting like some pampered lady?"

Before she could finish, Jack slapped her hard across the face. "Get in there and cook!"

Maya froze, clutching her stinging cheek. Her father had never laid a hand on her before.

Clara pulled her granddaughter close, wincing at the swelling on Maya’s face.

"Grandma!" Tears streamed down Maya’s cheeks. "It’s all that jinx’s fault! The moment she woke up, I got hit!"

"Enough," Clara nudged her toward the kitchen. "Your father’s in a foul mood. Go help your mother."

When even her grandmother refused to take her side, Maya stormed off, her braid whipping behind her.

"You went too far," Clara scolded Jack. "What if you ruined her face? How will she marry now?"

Jack’s expression darkened. Luna’s defiance today unsettled him. That girl was smart—what if she actually got into university?

"Think about it, Mother," he muttered. "If word gets out, what will the village say? Ethan’s engagement is set, but what about Maya and the others?"

Clara gritted her teeth. "That little wretch has lost her mind today! Two dollars for medicine! Tonight, we’ll break her legs!"

A calculating gleam flashed in Jack’s eyes. "Keep an eye on the mailman these next few days. We’ll need more money from Ethan too. As for the engagement..."

"Don’t worry," Clara sneered. "The moment that Acceptance Letter arrives, I’ll tear it up and toss it into the hills! We raised her—it’s time she paid us back!"

Just then, Clara’s daughter-in-law burst out of the kitchen, shaking with rage. "Mother, look! Not only did she skip cooking, she stole flour and eggs!"

In her hands were unmistakable shards of eggshell.

Clara’s vision swam. So, Luna was staging a rebellion.

"Just wait," the old woman hissed through clenched teeth, her grip on the cane turning her knuckles white.