Chapter 4: The Moral High Ground
“I’m sorry, Raylee. It’s all my fault…” Waverly sobbed, her distress childlike and seemingly profound. Samuel, who initially felt a fondness for Raylee, saw Waverly's anguish and his affection for Raylee waned considerably. He became a lion defending its cub, bristling with protective tension. “Why are you blaming her? Your injury wasn’t even caused by Waverly. You’re being unreasonable!”
“She’s not being unreasonable!” A strong voice boomed from the ward entrance. Casimir stood there, having overheard the entire exchange and Raylee's account of her four-year imprisonment. “Casimir? How are you here?” Samuel asked, surprised.
“Casimir paid for my hotel room,” Raylee replied casually.
“You guys…” Samuel’s voice trembled with frustration. “Casimir, you’re engaged to Waverly. Isn’t this inappropriate?”
“Did you get your priorities wrong?” Casimir’s brow furrowed. “Ms. Goodridge just got out of prison. Did any of you ask if she’s hungry? Or if she’s had anything to eat? She looks unwell. Did you even think to arrange a medical check-up?”
Samuel sighed deeply, falling into contemplation. “I was too careless…”
Raylee laughed bitterly. Her gaze toward Casimir held neither gratitude nor resentment. Ironically, upon her release, it wasn’t her family who showed her the most concern, but her former fiancé, the man who had deeply wounded her.
Harriet dabbed at her tears. “Samuel, quickly order some food for your sister.”
Realizing his oversight, Samuel immediately pulled out his phone to order a nutritious meal. Perhaps guilt prompted him to choose an expensive restaurant. “I’ve ordered it,” he said softly. “Rush delivery; it should be here in half an hour.”
“Thank you, Mr. Goodridge,” Raylee replied distantly. Samuel was stunned. Since her release, she hadn’t once used his first name. Her detachment felt more pronounced than a stranger's would. Anger surged. He strode toward her, a cold light in his eyes. “Are you sure those injuries are really from prison? Water dungeon and electric torture? You were imprisoned, not sent to some harsh frontier! I refuse to believe anyone could subject you to torture or forced confessions in a society governed by law!”
“Mr. Goodridge, what are you implying?” Raylee grimaced. “Do you think I inflicted these wounds myself? I spent three years in District Nine Prison, before transferring to Jexburgh Women’s Prison last year.”
The words “District Nine Prison” hung in the air, silencing the room instantly. The prison, situated on a remote island, was infamous. It housed the most dangerous criminals; its regime was brutal, its conditions austere, and its punishments horrifying. It was known as one of the world’s most terrifying prisons—a true hellhole. Raylee had endured three years there.
“Judging by your reactions, you’re familiar with District Nine Prison. Do I need to elaborate? It’s a tale you won’t soon forget,” Raylee said, her face devoid of expression, her eyes vacant. She spoke as if recounting inconsequential matters. “On my first day, they drove an iron spike into my fingertip… I screamed… they pulled it out… blood splattered… the pain… I passed out… they revived me… both my hands were filled with spikes… the next day, whips soaked in chili water… my body was battered… on the tenth day, the water dungeon… leeches, rats… gnawing… the pain…”
“All right, that’s enough!” Samuel interrupted, unable to bear it. Waverly trembled, covering her ears.
Raylee looked up, her gaze cold and dark. “What? You can’t handle hearing about it? How do you think I, the one who lived through it, managed?”
“Why didn’t you tell us about District Nine Prison? We had no idea!”
“Why didn’t I speak up?” Raylee laughed sarcastically. “Do you think I could reach the outside world? The one time I asked a guard to borrow a phone, they hung me up and beat me senseless all night!”
Samuel’s face paled. Raylee continued, “Perhaps fate spared me, allowing me to return alive from District Nine to Jexburgh. Even then, I wasn’t spared the prison bully. Every day… torment. After hearing all this, Mr. Goodridge, aren’t you relieved? Aren’t you glad it was me in prison instead of your dear sister, Waverly?”
Samuel’s fists clenched, his eyes dark, worry etching his face. He wanted to speak, but hesitated, fearing his words would sound like complaints.
“Ray-Ray, you’ve suffered so much…” Harriet choked back tears. Each word from Raylee felt like a blade, causing her immense pain.
“Mrs. Goodridge, I deserve this hardship. After all, didn’t I enjoy eighteen years of blessings in the Goodridge family?” Raylee said calmly. Her detachment tugged at their heartstrings. Harriet sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I will make it up to you.”
“If you want to make amends, Mrs. Goodridge, it should be to Waverly. She’s your biological daughter, lost for eighteen years.”
Samuel scolded, “Raylee, can’t you see Mom’s remorse? Must you speak with such sarcasm?” He felt for her suffering, but his anger was equally real. “Regardless, that’s in the past. You’re out of prison. Can’t you let bygones be bygones and live a good life with us? Do you really have to make a scene and make everyone unhappy?”
Let bygones be bygones? Four simple words, and he thought they could erase my four years of hell? He’s never experienced my hardships, yet he judges me. They’re the offenders, yet they take the moral high ground.
Raylee felt a surge of anger, but the words died in her throat.
Casimir’s emotions simmered. Even as a stranger, Raylee’s story would have distressed him. He felt compelled to speak. “Samuel, I didn’t see Raylee making a scene. She was simply stating facts! As her brother, you didn’t comfort her, but scolded her. That’s unacceptable.”