For days, every time Abigail got home from work, Daniella was there. At first, she'd stayed out of the way, but today, as soon as Abigail walked in, Daniella set a fruit salad on the table and pushed it over, smiling too sweetly. "I had a maid make this for you. Wanna try it?"

Abigail had once wished so hard they could get along, and dreamed of having a sister. But Daniella had always gone after her.

Without touching the salad, Abigail looked at her coldly. "You know how kids in orphanages treat each other?"

Stephen, just stepping inside, stopped in the hallway to listen.

"Abby, I was wrong before. I'm sorry." Daniella’s eyes filled up.

"Can't handle a few days of this?" Abigail’s voice was dripping with scorn. "I lived in this house like this till I was 18. You can call it being young and stupid, but... killing someone on purpose isn't about age."

"Abby, I was just scared then."

"So was I, but I didn't kill anyone." Abigail cut her off, annoyed.

Daniella cried and begged, "You’re the only one who can help me now. I really get it. Back then, it wasn't on purpose, just jealousy."

"Tell that to the judge." Abigail stood.

Looking down at Daniella grabbing her sleeve, she said coldly, "Hundreds of kids in my orphanage were like family. When I first came here, I really thought of you as a sister. Too bad."

She’d hoped for a sweet sister, parents who loved her, and brothers who had her back. Instead, there was nothing but nonstop put-downs, setups, and hate.

She turned and walked off, face empty.

Daniella leaped to her feet and shouted at Abigail's retreating back, "Look at the hell I’ve been through these past days. You saw it all and just turned a blind eye. You must feel great watching me suffer, right?"

Before Abigail could reply, Stephen charged into the room. "Daniella, quit spouting nonsense."

She cowered at his angry tone.

Stephen said, "If you actually want to make amends, act like it. She joined the Gibson family at 12. You framed her at 18 and sent her to prison for three years."

"Even after she came back, you kept turning us against her. That’s nearly ten years of torment. A few days of hardship and you’re falling apart? Don’t come crawling with fake apologies!"

He grabbed her wrist roughly. "You’re supposed to stay in the attic. What are you doing down here?"

Tears streaming down her face, Daniella whispered, "I’m sorry."

"Save your sorry for someone who cares. You’re accusing her of enjoying your misery? Let me ask you, did you have a blast torturing her all those years?" Stephen roared.

He'd spoken with the maids, and hearing their accounts, he finally understood how innocent and wronged Abigail had been. No one had ever stood up for her.

And instead of stopping, Daniella had only doubled down on her cruelty.

"Stevie," Daniella sobbed, trying to explain.

"I’m not done. Were you over the moon every time you pulled off another stunt? Did you prance around your room and then come up with even worse ways to hurt her?" Stephen barked, cutting her off.

Daniella’s body trembled as she kept shaking her head, tears pouring down her face like they meant nothing.

"Daniella, you’ll never truly repent till you’re behind bars. Stay up here from now on," Stephen snapped, yanking her toward the stairs.

"Stevie."

"Don’t call me that," Stephen said icily.

Once back in the attic, Daniella watched Stephen turn to leave and grabbed his wrist. "Stevie, you used to look out for me. Don’t be so heartless. I really get it now. I was wrong."

"Shut your mouth." Stephen wrenched free.

Daniella stumbled back, too late to chase him before the door slammed shut.

Standing alone, she scolded herself under her breath. "I should’ve kept my head. I need Abigail to forgive me first before I try anything."

Isn’t this exactly what they want—seeing me stripped of all dignity? I’m not a Gibson heiress anymore. I have no right to be mad at Abigail, she thought.