Chapter 9
In the cramped room, there was only a worn–out folding bed and a few basic belongings scattered around. The rest of the space was filled with clutter, the walls yellowed and musty, with cobwebs in the corners.
As he saw the state of her living conditions, Harry’s anger flared. “Hazel, what is this? Camila is my sister! Who allowed you to make her live here?”
Hazel, looking both guilty and helpless, replied, “Mr. Jackson, didn’t you tell Miss Jackson to stay here? Have you forgotten?”
“When did I ever…” Harry started to speak, but the words trailed off.
Eight years ago, when Camila was brought back home, he had let her choose her room.
She picked the guest room next to his bedroom, but he immediately rejected it. “I’m turning this room into a study. Pick another one.“”
Then she chose the room next to Agnes’s, but he turned that down too. “That room is for Agnes’s art studio. You can’t stay there.”
Finally, Camila chose the attic, but he wouldn’t allow that either. “You’re the heiress of the Jackson family. If anyone finds out you’re living in the attic, we’ll become a laughingstock. Hazel, don’t we have any other rooms?”
“There is one, but it’s just a storage room…”
“Then clear it out and let her stay there temporarily.”
He had imagined the storage room to be similar to a guest room–spacious and well–lit but he had been wrong. The room didn’t even have windows.
Now, the image of Camila spending all those lonely, cold nights in that dim, isolated room filled him with more pain than he could bear.
In this huge villa, even the servants had their own rooms, but Camila had been forced to live in a damp, dark storage room for three years. The realization nearly suffocated him.
Harry was tense, his anger palpable. Hazel hesitated before suggesting, “The storage room is damp. Maybe we should let Miss Jackson stay in my room instead?”
ウ
“No,” Harry rejected firmly. At that moment, it felt like his heart had been pierced by countless tiny needles, each one carrying guilt and sympathy, mixing together in a way he couldn’t explain.
He took a deep breath and said, “Call Michael. Tell him to come to my room.”
With that, he carefully cradled the unconscious Camila in his arms and walked briskly toward his bedroom.
Watching him go, Hazel felt a slight relief for Camila. She thought, ‘At least today, Mr. Jackson is showing some concern for her. He has always ignored her before, but now, he is acting like a real brother.‘
She quickly dialed Michael. “Hello? Dr. Walker, Miss Jackson is unwell. You need to come right away…”
Five minutes later, the door to Harry’s room opened with a soft creak, and Michael Walker’s voice preceded him.
“Harry, how much of a ‘sister’s boy‘ can you be? Agries is sick, and you wouldn’t let her rest in her own room, but now you’re dragging her into yours… wait, who is this?” Michael said.
As Michael walked in, his teasing tone disappeared when he saw Camila lying on the bed, pale and unconscious. His expression quickly shifted to one of disdain.
“I don’t treat labor camp prisoners,” he said,/grabbing his medical kit and turning to leave.
“Michael,” Harry called, his voice low but firm, filled with a quiet, unshakable resolve. “She’s my sister. Don’t call her a labor camp prisoner.”
1/2
38%
Chapter 9
Michael’s face was as cold as frost, his expression frozen with indifference. “She’s your sister, but what about Agnes? She may share your blood, but Agnes is the one who actually grew up with you, who is truly family.
“Emily, the respected young lady of the Connor family, was turned into a vegetable by her. She served only five years in prison and now lives a normal life. But who gave Emily the chance to wake up? Her life was ruined by that woman!”
Harry’s face showed a moment of hesitation, his hands clenching and unclenching unconsciously.
On one side, he felt guilt and the weight of family ties toward Camila. On the other, he couldn’t ignore the deep injustices suffered by Agnes and Emily. He felt like he was caught between two immovable boulders, unable to move forward or back.
“She… after all, is my real sister,” he said, his voice weak but still holding firm.
