They must have sensed my vulnerability since their movements were rough and careless.

My suitcase burst open and old clothes scattered everywhere. Among the mess, two cherished photo frames tumbled out.

One held a family portrait from when Wynnie and I got engaged.

The other was a photo frame of the late orphanage director who had raised me—the only person who had ever shown me kindness.

However, before I could even react, Jeff, quick as a flash, stomped down. His expensive custom-made shoes shattered the fragile glass with a sharp crack.

"No, please don't!"

I threw myself at Jeff, trying to grab the photo from under his feet, but ended up with his boot crushing my fingers instead.

Glass dug into my skin and blood began streaming out, but I could not worry about that.

I pulled my hand back, stinging with cuts, and shoved Jeff with all my might.

That was when I finally got the photo back, but it was all bent and dirty, covered in grime.

When I pushed Jeff and he stumbled, my dad lost it.

"You have the nerve to shove Jeff?! You know he's always been sickly!

"Get out! Just get out! From this moment on, you're dead to us, as if the Cunningham family never had a loser like you!"

They were prioritizing Jeff's safety, blind to my bleeding hand.

Only Wynnie, off to the side, saw my injuries and winced.

All I did was pick up the director's photo and clean it off. I did not even bother looking at the engagement photo of me and her on the ground.

I tucked the frameless photo away carefully, taking one last look at the family and the love of my previous life.

"The Cunningham family didn't raise me. It was the orphanage you looked down on. If you can't bear to lose Jeff, then act like I never came back. From now on, let's be strangers in this vast world."