Those years, she even had to cry under the covers, afraid of disturbing the "one who needed more care"—Lucia Shea.
Back then, it was because she was too sensible, too good at thinking for others, that she kept backing down, living so very cautiously.
Vivian Sinclair took a deep breath.
"Don't say these things again. I won't go back to the Prescott Family, and I won't ever bother you again."
The pain of the past would not disappear, but she no longer wanted to drown in it.
She was no longer the child who had to please everyone just to receive a scrap of warmth.
From now on, she would take responsibility for her own life.
Lynn Shea frowned.
"What do you mean by that?"
She stared at Vivian, trying to find even a trace of hesitation in her expression.
The wind outside the hall blew in gust after gust, and the thin blazer she wore did nothing to keep out the chill.
The cold didn't just come from the weather, but from the utter clarity chilling her heart.
