NovelStartA few days later.
The Heath residence.
It was night. Outside the glass windows, the winter rain was making a rustling sound, and the cold wind was whistling.
Charlotte lay in bed, looking out the window. The naked branches were unable to withstand the northwest wind, swaying in the
cold wind, and the jagged shadows of the trees reflected on the window, looking distinctly horrible.
She had fallen asleep and was awakened by a violent coughing fit.
Turning on the light, she sat up and looked at the time. Surprisingly it was just after 9 pm.
After the miscarriage, her body had not been able to recover. Athough the bleeding was not as worse as before, it had never
stopped, and she could smell a vague and constant odor.
She knew in her heart that this time, her body has suffered a huge trauma, and the possibility of having children in the future had
been zero.
Struggling to get out of bed, she tried to pour herself a glass of water.
After a long twithout getting on her feet, her legs were weak and she stumbled and fell straight down, hitting her forehead on
the coffee table.
It hurt so much that tears fell from her eyes on the spot.
Every day, it's like being in jail. No! It's much worse than jail. At least in jail she wouldn't be beaten up at will. And now, living in
Otis' shadow, she had been completely reduced to his punching bag.
When he's in a good mood, he would never even pick up on her.
When things did not go well for him, a night of fists and kicks would be a sure thing. He did not care about her death or life. And he
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtalways beat her up always until he was satisfied.
She was treated like garbage that could be trampled on at will.
Yesterday afternoon, Otis cback with a stern face when she was drinking porridge. She had no idea what she had done to
annoy him.
He used his belt directly and whipped her so hard that she spilled her porridge, and he forced her lick the floor clean. The
humiliation was too much to recall.
Charlotte sat paralyzed on the floor. She lifted up her sleeve and looked at the shocking bruises on her arm.
Now, she lived a life worse than a dog.
She was only dragging her sick body, without any dignity, and living in fear all day long.
It felt like he's going to get her killed at any moment.
No, she felt like she was, already, a leaf in the wind. With a miscarriage that wouldn't heal and a badly infected lung she wouldn't
live long.
She leaned helplessly against the coffee table and wept bitterly, running out of breath in a flash. She cried so hard that her voice
was hoarse. Even when she was growing up in an orphanage, she had never suffered as much as she did now.
Tommy usually slept in the living room all the time, taking care of Charlotte in close quarters.
Tonight, he had just returned from outside when he heard the sound of crying coming from inside the room.
His heart tightened and he hurriedly pushed open the door of the room.
He saw Charlotte sitting on the floor crying, and that the glass of water on top of the coffee table was knocked over and water was
flowing all over the floor.
He rushed forward, helped Charlotte up on the chair, and said heartily, "Miss Charlotte. letpour you water. Sorry, | went out
this afternoon and cback late today."
The affectionate "Miss Charlotte" nmade Charlotte cry even harder.
What a noble life she once had, and what did she even end up having today.
The word miserable was no longer enough to describe her situation.
She regretted it. She especially regretted that she should not have pushed Cecelia. Cecelia and General Ralph were the only ones
who could hold Otis down. She was the one who created the opportunity for Otis to usurp power.
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