Ch. For Adopted Daughter, My Parents Ruin Me Ch 2 For Adopted Daughter, My Parents Ruin Me Ch 2

Chapter 2, 

My mother exhaled sharply, leaning toward the doctor with urgency. “Give her the Ostrongest painkillers you have. Now.” 

Her voice dropped to a hushed plea. “As for her hands and legs–just keep the wounds stable. No infections, no unnecessary pain. She’s always been sensitive to it.” 

A tremor wracked my body. Tears spilled over, hot and relentless. 

So this was the truth. The “accident” hadn’t been random violence–it had been orchestrated by the people who were supposed to love me most. All because I stood in Julienne’s way. 

They hadn’t even questioned her story. Just 

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accepted it, condemned me, and washed their hands of me. 

Agony lanced through my chest, radiating outward. until even my fingertips burned with it. I fixed my gaze on the sterile white ceiling, unblinking. 

When my mother rushed into the operating room, her breath hitched at the sight of my bloodied, trembling hands. “Evangeline!” Her voice cracked. “Sweetheart, where does it hurt? We’re getting the best doctors–they’ll fix this, I promise!” 

Beside her, my brother was already dialing, his words thick with tears. “I don’t care what it costs–find the finest vocal surgeon in the world. Her career won’t end like this!” 

Then, softer, venomous: “Whoever did this will pay. I’ll break every bone in their body. 

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Let them choke on their own voice.” 

My father’s guilt–ridden sobs filled the space between machines. “Hold on, princess. The best team is en route. When you’re healed, we’ll write that duet–just like you always wanted. The whole world will know you’re my greatest pride.” 

I watched their performance through numb detachment, smearing blood across my phone screen as I typed: [I didn’t plagiarize Julienne.] 

My brother snatched the device before I could finish. “Of course you didn’t,” he murmured, avoiding my eyes. “Just rest.” 

Their synchronized nods were too quick, too hollow. 

They believed her. Not me. Never me. 

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And this–this mangled body, this shattered voice–was their doing. 

Ten years ago, that same brother had wept into my hair, swearing he’d spend his life making up for the childhood they’d stolen from me. Now? He’d traded my dreams for Julienne’s smile without a second thought. 

The tears came harder, distorting their faces. Who was the real daughter here? Certainly 

not me! 

The doctor injected the painkiller with a grimace, his gaze lingering on the ruin of my throat. “The specialists are delayed, Miss Montclair. You’ll need to endure a while longer.” 

But no drug could dull this betrayal. I bit down until copper flooded my tongue. 

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“Evangeline, no!” My mother reached for me, eyes wild. My brother shoved his wrist against my teeth. “Here. Hurt me instead.” 

Their concern oozed like syrup–sickly sweet, suffocating. It made my skin crawl. 

When consciousness returned, sunlight stabbed through the blinds. A new day. A fresh hell. 

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