Ch. For Adopted Daughter, My Parents Ruin Me Ch 23 For Adopted Daughter, My Parents Ruin Me Ch 23

Chapter 7 

The doctor sister, the photographer at the studio, and the street vendor selling Hot Pockets–each of them had, at some point, offered me a flicker of comfort. 

As I drifted into these thoughts, other members of the Hawthorne family began to arrive one by one. 

At the sound of movement, William already had his cold, indifferent expression back in place. 

Sophie, hands covering her mouth, was in shock, unable to believe what she was 

seeing. After a moment, her eyes welled with 

tears. 

“Isabella… how could she…?!” 

1/7 

Chapter 7 

+ 5 Points 

Her voice cracked with a tremor, and it broke everyone’s heart. 

Lucas pulled her into his arms, softly comforting her, “Sophie, don’t cry. Everyone has their own fate.” 

Fuck that! Fate, my ass! 

I didn’t believe in fate, but sometimes, it seemed hell–bent on mocking me. It shoved me into the role of the cursed one. 

I caught a faint smile tugging at the corner of Lucas’s lips. He was smiling–seemingly pleased that I was dead. 

My body was surrounded by them, and maybe because they saw a photo of my funeral and the urn, they fell into a long, uncomfortable silence. 

2/7 

Chapter 7 

+ 5 Points 

William’s voice broke the stillness, deep and solemn. “This afternoon, Isabella spoke with me.” 

“She said she was going to die and wanted us to have one last meal with her.” 

His gaze shifted to Oliver. “Did she tell you guys that?” 

Oliver, rarely showing vulnerability, looked uneasy. The words he had spoken to me earlier that morning had been lies. 

There had been no auction. They didn’t need to be with eldest brother. 

From their conversation, I finally realized -when they left, they’d been heading to celebrate the birthday of Sophie’s little cat. 

3/7 

In the end, I wasn’t even as important as a 

cat. 

I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling a strange tightness. Hadn’t I already died? Why was I still feeling these things? 

Sophie had been comforted and taken upstairs, leaving the remaining three in silence. 

Oliver stared at the smiling face in the photo for my funeral, confusion clouding his expression. “Did… did we do something wrong?” 

I saw the other two nod slightly in agreement. 

Lucas spoke up, his face betraying a bit of confusion. “She must have prepared all this herself… Maybe because she saw her time 

4/7 

was running out.” 

“Do you guys remember what she said when we were little?” 

“She said she could see countdown numbers over our parents‘ heads…” 

Struggling to get the last words out, William took over. 

“So, she saw the death countdown over her own head, and that’s why she made these arrangements ahead of time.” 

Oliver angrily grabbed at his hair. “Why didn’t we notice any of this in the last decade?” 

“Because we never truly believed her. We always saw her as a devil, a monster… not as our own flesh and blood.” 

5/7 

Lucas had hit the nail on the head, but by now, it was far too late for regrets. 

Suddenly, Oliver seemed to remember something. In a frenzy, he dashed into my room, tearing through everything. 

Eventually, in a small box beneath my bed, he found the scarf that I had carefully repaired. 

The scarf, once cut into pieces, had been sewn back together by me. The rough stitching seemed to bring that moment back into sharp focus. 

When I was little, I had sewn it up while crying. When the yarn ran out, I had used black thread instead. 

Although the scarf was whole again, that dark thread ran through it like a deep crack, winding its way across the fabric. 

6/7 

Chapter 

It seemed whole, but it would never be the same again. 

7/7