Chapter 6: Memories


    Amelia sat on the edge of her bed, her body still humming with the rush of defying Celeste. But as the adrenaline faded, something else crept in—something heavier. Her past loomed over her like a dark shadow, the memories clawing their way back into her mind.


    She had spent her entire life as an outsider in her own home.


    Her sisters had always been the shining stars. Celeste and Vivian, beautiful, charming, and adored. Their parents showered them with gifts, praised their accomplishments, and ensured they received the finest education. Meanwhile, Amelia had been left in the dark, unnoticed, a mere shadow in the corner. While her sisters attended prestigious academies with private tutors, she had been given books—nothing more. No teacher, no mentor. Just books, piled high in a dusty corner of the estate’s library. If she wanted to learn, she had to do it alone.


    She had tried so hard to prove her worth. When she was younger, she had run to her mother, beaming with pride, holding a book she had painstakingly taught herself to read. “Look, Mother! I read this all by myself!”


    But her mother’s response had been cold. “Why must you always beg for attention, Amelia? Be quiet.”


    It had stung. But it had been worse when she saw the same woman fawn over Celeste’s artwork the very next day.


    “Such talent, my darling! You truly are gifted,” her mother had cooed, kissing Celeste’s golden curls. Amelia had stood there, invisible, while jealousy and pain twisted inside her.


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    She had endured years of neglect, of being treated like a mistake. And then came the whispers.


    The servants thought she didn’t hear them, but she did.


    “She’s cursed.”


    “She was born under a bad omen. That’s why her parents ignore her.”


    “Have you noticed how Lord and Lady Everhart never take her to social events? She’s never been introduced to the noble society.”


    It was true. While her sisters attended grand galas, smiling in their sparkling dresses, Amelia remained locked away. She had never set foot in a ballroom, never been introduced to potential suitors or noble allies. She was a ghost.


    She had once dared to ask her father about it. She had stood before his imposing desk, trembling but determined. “Father, why do you keep me hidden? Why do you treat me differently?”


    His sharp eyes had barely glanced at her before he returned to his paperwork. “Do not ask such foolish questions, Amelia.”


    That had been the end of it. He refused to speak of it again. And so, she had learned to stop asking.


    At some point, she had accepted her miserable existence. There was no changing it. No one loved her. She had no place in this world. The only thing she could do was survive.


    But even that had been a struggle.


    She had spent years battling self-doubt, sinking into the depths of depression. The constant belittlement, the loneliness—it had eroded her confidence until there was nothing left. She had spent countless nights staring at the ceiling, wondering if she truly was cursed. If something was wrong with her. If she was unworthy of love.


    Sometimes, she had thought about disappearing. Maybe then, they would notice her. Maybe then, they would feel something.


    But no. They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t care.


    The thought made her laugh bitterly.


    And yet, now, something was different. The system had changed everything. For the first time, she had something that was hers. Something powerful. Something that made her feel like she wasn’t worthless.


    Was this why she had been born different? Was this the answer to her suffering?


    She clenched her fists. No. She wasn’t going to drown in those thoughts again. She wasn’t going to let herself spiral into self-hatred.


    She had power now.


    And for the first time in her life, she had hope.