After the crowd finally cleared out, Henry looked back toward the stage-and immediately, his face darkened.

Lydia was gone again. Just like that.

...

Holding her robot and trophy, Lydia followed the crowd out of the venue. People kept stopping her to offer congratulations and chat.

It was the first time she'd ever been in the spotlight like this. She looked overwhelmed, nervously nodding and murmuring thanks while hurrying her way through.

Then, as she looked up-there he was.

-Dr. Shaw!

She lit up and practically bounced toward Michael, showing off her trophy with contagious excitement.

-"Look, Dr. Shaw, I did it! I actually won! If it weren't for you, I might not have pulled it off. This trophy... it's kind of ours, right?"

Her face was glowing, cheeks flushed with happiness, like all the joy in the world had landed on her in that moment.

That bright, cheerful energy reminded Michael of someone-someone from long ago who used to beam just like this.

He couldn't help mumbling, "Seven... is that really you?"

Seven?

Lydia blinked, confused.

-"Dr. Shaw, what are you talking about?"

He hesitated for a moment, a little dazed. "Seven, we used to-"

Before he could finish the sentence, a tall, looming figure stepped in behind her.

It was Henry.

His gaze sharp as knives, his presence cold and intense.

He walked up, no questions asked, and yanked Lydia by the wrist, pulling her behind him protectively, almost possessively.

One chilling glance toward Michael, then he dragged her away.

His face was stormy, dangerously calm in that terrifying kind of way.

Lydia knew what that meant. He was absolutely livid.

But his grip? Way too tight. His big hand wrapped firmly around her delicate wrist like a shackle, and she couldn't break free.

She winced but stayed quiet, teeth clenched.

When he finally stopped, she yanked her arm back with all her might.

-"That hurt."

Her eyes were red-rimmed as she signed the words.

"You deserved it," he shot back.

Henry glanced at the angry red mark on her pale wrist, and though his glare loosened a little, it didn't go away.

Thinking about how close she'd just been with that other man made his gut twist with fury.

He grabbed her chin, forcing her head up.

His eyes blazed as he asked through clenched teeth, "Who the hell was that guy?!"

-"Henry, you're getting it all wrong. He's my-"

"Shut up!" he snapped, fury flashing in his eyes. "I'm sick of your pathetic lies!"

He let go of her chin, eyes full of cold disgust. "Lydia, can't wait even a second, huh? The moment I'm out of sight, you're off chasing men?"

Lydia stared up at him, eyes red, shocked beyond words.

-Is that really how you see me?

"A murderer's daughter. What good can come out of that?" Henry laughed mockingly, a hint of red at the corner of his eye.

That sentence hit her like a slap. It felt like something deep inside cracked open with a shattering noise.

Her body stiffened, color draining from her face. Her heart clenched with pain like it was caught in a vice.

Just one sentence from him was enough to crush everything she had tried to hold on to-her dignity, her pride.

Yeah... what was she even indignant about?

At the end of the day, she'd never shake off the label of being "the killer's daughter."

She couldn't stop herself from letting out a dry laugh, lips curling into a bitter smile as silent tears slid down her cheeks.

Before she could think anymore, Henry yanked her by the arm and shoved her into the car.

Lydia knew all too well-there was no way she could go against Henry.

Now that he had dragged her into the car by force, there was only one outcome: being taken away by him without a choice.

Still, she was furious.

Angry that he'd blamed her without even checking facts. Angry that he'd smashed her robot.

But what could she even do to fight back?

She stayed silent, hoping her silence would say what she couldn't.

Quietly, she followed Henry back to the villa without saying a word.

As soon as they got home, Henry shot her a cold glare and ordered, "Come to my room tonight."

And with that, he turned and headed upstairs, leaning on his crutch.

Lydia just stood there, mind blank.

Once it hit her what he said, she turned pale in an instant.

Her first instinct was to say no.

But she couldn't. She didn't dare.

She walked back to her little room alone.

Calling it a servant's room was a stretch-it was way worse than any other servant's quarters in the Lawson house.

Henry had purposely stuck her in the attic's dark storage room, the closest room to his, just to mess with her.

It was always gloomy in there-no sunlight at all. He didn't even let her have a lamp installed.

So every night, all she had was a single candle to light the space.

But strangely, this dingy little nook was the only place in the whole mansion where she felt something close to safe.

Already worn out, Lydia curled up on the bed and quickly drifted off.

She didn't wake again until a loud banging on the door jolted her up. Her mouth was dry and her head heavy as she got up to answer it.

A maid stood outside, looking her up and down with disdain. "You're seriously still sleeping? You could out-sleep a pig."

Lydia was long used to their sneers. She raised her hands and signed a short sentence.

-What is it?

"Mr. Lawson's waiting for you. In his room."

Lydia jolted, suddenly recalling what he'd told her to do.

Stiff as a board, she shuffled to Henry's door, forcing herself to swallow the fear and gave it a soft knock.

"Get in here!" A deep voice boomed from inside, laced with restrained fury.

She flinched, hesitating only a second before she reached out with a shaky hand and pushed the door open.

The room was dim, almost pitch dark. Lydia held her breath and stepped in quietly, as if any louder sound might shatter her.

-Ah!

The door had barely shut behind her when a strong force yanked her forward-hard. She hadn't even processed what was happening before her legs gave out and she crashed onto the bed.

"Ha..." a mocking chuckle brushed past her ear.

She looked up, startled, and saw Henry in the shadows, eyes dark and cold like a predator lurking just out of reach.

The air around her felt suddenly heavy, like it had thickened into iron. Her chest tightened-she could barely breathe.

"I told you to come here tonight. What were you stalling for?"

Henry's voice was low, biting with anger and pain, his words squeezing through clenched teeth. "Or is this your thing now? Showing up late just to tease me? Huh?"

As he spoke, he grabbed her chin roughly, pulling her face up to look at him.

-I didn't mean to, I swear I just fell asleep. Henry, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to be late...

Lydia's heart was pierced by his words, but she forced herself to explain, trying to hold back the panic.

"You always have an excuse ready, don't you?"

He sneered, voice thick with disdain. "Lydia, stop pretending you're some angel. Do you even remember who you are? A murderer's daughter. Don't stand there acting all innocent-it's disgusting."

-Henry...

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Even her hands, always quick to form signs, froze.

She slowly shut her eyes, pain tightening her expression. He was right-at least in his mind. She was just the daughter of a killer.

No matter what she did, how hard she tried, it would never be enough. In his eyes, she'd always be guilty.

So what was even the point in trying?

Her hands gradually dropped to her sides. She didn't say another word, eyes lowered, letting his insults hit her like rain on glass.

"Oh, what? Now you look hurt?" His tone turned sharper. "Did I lie about anything?"

But her silence only fueled Henry's rage, as if her quiet resistance pushed him further off the edge.

His hand slid down from her delicate, pale face, stopping at her chest.

"You know, you're already twenty, yet you've never even been with a man. No wonder you're so desperate. Since you're dying for it, I'll 'help' you out."

As soon as he spoke, he yanked her top and tore it apart.

-No! Henry, please don't! It's not like that! I beg you, don't do this...

Lydia froze in shock, panic flooding her entire system as she struggled wildly. Her tears spilled like a broken faucet, but none of it stopped Henry.

"Cut the act. You love throwing yourself at men, don't you? You should be thankful it's me."

His bloodshot eyes glinted with a mix of anger and madness as he lunged toward her like a beast.

Pressing his lips against her trembling ones, he bit down hard, not bothering to be gentle.

Lydia's eyes widened in fear. Henry's grip, his touch-it all triggered the memory of that night two years ago when she had just turned eighteen. Back then, he was exactly like this-a predator who seemed ready to devour her whole.

Even though he stopped for some unknown reason that night, the horror of it stayed with her. That was the darkest moment of her life.

-No...

She opened her mouth in silence, shaking her head all over the place. She kicked and pushed, but his hold on her was unbreakable.

Hopelessness swallowed her whole. She clenched her eyes shut.

Ten years ago, she lost her family.

It was Henry who took her in, made her believe she could have a new beginning.

All those years, she loved him in silence. But she never figured out why he had to hurt her like this.

Wasn't everything he already did enough?

Suddenly, Henry tasted something salty. He froze, body going rigid.

It was her tears.

The momentary pause gave Lydia a sliver of hope.

-Henry, please... don't...

Her hands trembled as she clasped them together, eyes pleading.

That look, raw despair and resistance, hit Henry the moment he glanced down. Whatever softness had surfaced in his heart vanished in an instant.

His face darkened, and he squeezed her throat viciously.

"Lydia, what's that look for? Scared? Hopeless? It wasn't you who died. You didn't lose your leg. So what the hell makes you think you can break like this? What right do you have to be afraid? You like guys, don't you? Can't handle it now? I'll show you exactly what happens when you go around seducing other men behind my back."

As soon as he finished speaking, he pinned her down again, not giving her a chance to escape.

"Ah-!"

Lydia couldn't take the way he looked at her and what he said-it stung. She knew begging would be pointless.

So, in a burst of frustration, she bit his lip hard. But that only made Henry lash out even more, like she'd lit a fuse.

Panicking, Lydia acted on instinct. She raised her leg and kicked out hard.

With a loud "thud," something hit the ground.

Henry froze mid-movement, letting out a muffled groan, his body rigid.

She seized the moment and pulled away from him with all her might, scrambling off the bed.

As she stumbled toward the door, her foot caught, and she nearly fell. She looked down-and froze.

A prosthetic limb lay silently on the floor.

Her chest tightened as she realized what had just happened.

She'd just-

Her eyes darted back to the bed. Henry had curled into himself, face hidden in the shadows.

But she could hear it now-low, painful groans slipping past his clenched teeth, getting louder like they were finally breaking free.

Guilt twisted in her stomach, hot and sharp.

She knew it was the phantom pain again-brought on because she kicked off his prosthetic.

"Henry... are you okay?" she asked, voice trembling.

She rushed back over, unsure what to do, watching in horror as he trembled on the bed, his face pale from pain.

"What the hell are you doing back here? Came to see me suffer?" he shouted, his voice hoarse but furious.

"Get out. I said get out!"

He hurled anything he could reach at her-all of it landing with dull thuds around her.

Tears welled up in Lydia's eyes, but she stood her ground. Let him vent.

When he finally stopped, she hurried to find his medication and knelt beside him.

Carefully, she pulled his sweat-soaked body toward her, trying to support him.

She tried to give him the pills, but his eyes were shut tight, his body trembling too much to swallow.

Desperate, she started crying. She hesitated for just a second-then popped the pill into her own mouth, took a sip of water, leaned in, and pressed her lips to his.

Feeling the familiar warmth, Henry's lips parted instinctively.

Lydia took the chance to guide the pill into his mouth.

She gripped his jaw gently.

He resisted for a second-but then, slowly, he swallowed the medicine.

Lydia finally exhaled a heavy breath and sat there with her arms around him, gently patting Henry on the back like she was trying to calm a panicked child.

Henry was completely out of it from the pain. After taking the meds, the effect kicked in fast.

In no time, his trembling slowed, and his shaky breathing eased up.

Seeing this, Lydia's tightly strung nerves slowly relaxed.

She tried to shift him off her, but he was like a rock-dead weight. No matter how she pushed or nudged, he just leaned in closer, curling up into her arms like he didn't want to let go.

Left with no choice, she gave up and stayed in that position, holding him while quietly spacing out.

The dim room fell into silence, and it felt like the only sounds in the world were the beating of their hearts echoing off each other.

Remembering the way Henry had thrashed in pain earlier made guilt wash all over her like a drowning tide. Her chest tightened unbearably, like something was cracking open inside her.

"Henry, I'm so sorry... This is all my fault."

Everything led back to her.

Back when she got lost as a kid, if that hadn't happened, her parents wouldn't have spent years desperately searching for her. They wouldn't have used up all their savings to treat her mutism, and later, when her mom fell seriously ill, they would've had the money for treatment.

But they didn't. And because of that, her dad took on a risky late-night trucking job to make ends meet... which ended in that terrible, life-wrecking crash.

No crash would've meant her parents would still be alive. And Henry's dad would've been fine. His leg wouldn't have been ruined, either.

At the heart of it all-was her.

She sobbed, full of pain and regret, but not a sound came out.

By the time her eyes were scratched raw from crying, her mind was already half asleep.

The next morning, sunshine peeked through a gap in the curtains, casting a stripe of light across the bed.

Henry fluttered his eyes open, only to find Lydia's porcelain-pale face right in front of his. He was wrapped snug against her like a kid clinging to safety.

She... held him all night?

His eyes filled with mixed emotion as a beam of sunlight lit her sleeping face.

She looked so calm in her sleep, like a little doll. The tiny fine hairs on her cheeks were clearly visible in the light.

And just like that, his mind flashed back to the first time he'd seen her. That tiny little girl, slumped next to her parents' lifeless bodies, her face tear-streaked and wild with grief. She had cried so hard it cut through the air.

He had stepped closer, and she looked up at him-and in that moment, her wide, innocent eyes locked onto his with a kind of raw purity that made his heart skip a beat.

Something inside him had moved, and without even thinking, he'd reached out to gently touch her face.