Ch. For Adopted Daughter, My Parents Ruin Me Ch 9 For Adopted Daughter, My Parents Ruin Me Ch 9

Chapter 9 

My parents stood frozen, their faces drained of color, while my brother’s eyes darkened with disbelief. 

Snatching my cracked phone from the table, he jabbed at the shattered screen, but it remained lifeless. 

“What recording?” His voice was a blade, sharp and cold. “What injustice are you accusing me of? Speak clearly!” 

He seized the manager by the collar, jaw clenched so tight I heard the grind of his teeth. 

Julienne–who had been playing the frail victim moments before–paled as if struck by a sudden realization. Trembling, she 

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scrambled from the bed and flung herself at our brother, her voice quivering with faux distress. 

“Last night… when sister let those fans attack me, it had to be recorded!” Her breath hitched, a masterclass in manipulation. “I know she resents them for hurting her, but how can anyone prove they were my fans? Sister, do you even care what this does to me? The trauma-” 

My brother’s expression softened, pity creeping back in. He pulled her close, rubbing her back in slow circles. “Shh, it’s alright. If that’s the case, we’ll drop it.” 

Julienne sagged against him, relief flashing across her face–but before she could spin another lie, my brother pocketed the phone. 

My parents turned to the manager, frantic. 

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“Are you certain?” My mother’s nails dug into her palms. “Could she have hidden somewhere? Or–or staged this?” 

The manager flushed, stammering, “Impossible. The door was locked, the room searched. Only the window was open.” 

Julienne scoffed, lip curling. “Or maybe sister bribed the guards to sneak out. Broken limbs don’t exactly let you leap from windows.” Her gaze turned sly. “Unless… those men came back for her. How convenient.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Sister, you’d really ally with criminals just to escape blame?” 

For ten years, her poisoned words had twisted my family against me. But this time -this time–something shifted. 

My father’s fist slammed onto the table. “Enough! Evangeline isn’t that kind of 

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person. We will find out who those men were.” 

My brother’s stare turned glacial. “And this recording? I’ll have the phone repaired. Julienne, you don’t get to call your sister a fool without proof.” 

“Just find her!” My mother’s cry was raw, tears streaking her cheeks. 

They left Julienne behind, storming to the room where I’d been held. But all that remained were two gruesome handprints smeared across the windowsill–my blood, crusted where I’d clawed my way up, teeth gritted against the pain. 

I’d known then: if I stayed, this family would let Julienne kill me. That they were never truly mine. 

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My mother’s fingers brushed the dried blood. Her knees buckled. 

Beside her, my brother’s face contorted- rage, guilt, something unnameable–as he whispered, “Evangeline… why would she be this reckless?” 

“I told you,” Julienne hissed from the doorway. “She’s playing you all.” 

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