Broken Hands, Broken Home: My Family's Sentence

Evonne hadn't left the country? Then what about my parents and the rest of my family?

If they were still in the country, how could they not have seen the livestream? How could they not have saved me?

I ignored the nearby Bruce and desperately crawled on the ground, looking for my phone. I used my broken finger to open the photo of Hashford that Evonne had sent me.

I zoomed in, then zoomed in again.

It was then that I clearly saw the buildings in the picture.

It wasn't Hashford at all. This was clearly the beach in our city!

I heard Bruce mockingly laugh behind me. "Your parents never went abroad. They're just hiding like cowards! They don't want to save you at all!"

At that moment, the last string of sanity in my mind snapped. This terrifying truth was something I didn't dare think about, not even for a second.

I crawled over and grabbed the phone that was livestreaming. With my face marred with blood and tears, I heartwrenchingly screamed into the screen, "Dad, Mom, it's Penelope! Don't you see me?

"All my fingers are gone! I'm in so much pain, and I'm about to die! Are you really not going to care about me? I'm your biological daughter!"

The comment section became even more frenzied.

"My heart is breaking from this kid's cries!"

"I'm the kid's father! You bad man, let her go! I'll pay the ransom!"

"I'm the kid's mother! Release my kid and take Evonne instead!"

"We are all this child's parents! Just state your conditions!"

Online, countless commenters called themselves my parents, but my real parents never showed up.

In fact, ever since I'd returned to the Watsons, all I ever received daily were cold stares and disdain. When I was happy, they scolded me for stealing Evonne's things. When I was sad, they said I ruined the mood.

Still, because of my blood ties to them, I longed for my parents' love. I had naively believed that they loved me too.

Suddenly, Bruce ended the livestream and coldly declared, "Your parents aren't coming to save you."

I covered my ears and blankly murmured, "No, maybe they just didn't see it…"

Bruce yanked my hair hard, shoved my phone in front of me, and mocked, "An unloved child like you is truly pitiful! Face reality, kid."

On the phone, Evonne had sent me a new video. In the video, the Watsons had lit up rows of fireworks on the beach. Under the glow of the fireworks, they enjoyed a barbecue together, raising their glasses to wish Evonne a happy birthday.

In the corner of the video, I saw a phone casually tossed on the table, playing the livestream of me being tortured.

My unbearable screams were drowned out by their cheerful laughter.

Evonne quickly deleted the video. Then, she gloatingly said, "Oops! I sent it to the wrong person! Dad said we all have to pretend we never saw you.

"My dear sister, just pretend you didn't see that. Oh, wait, it doesn't matter if you see it or not. After all, you're just a filthy country bumpkin—you deserve to die."

I collapsed on the ground, my hands trembling uncontrollably as fresh blood gushed from my severed fingers. But my tear ducts had dried up by then, and I could no longer shed a single tear.

"Do you hate them? Why should they be enjoying themselves as a family while you suffer alone here? If I were you, I'd take revenge and make that animalistic family pay the price!"

Bruce grabbed my trembling hand and shoved a remote control into it. "As soon as you press this button, the video of Zachary and his wife torturing my daughter to death back then will be uploaded to every major video site.

"He will be ruined and disgraced. He will regret ignoring you today."

With bloodshot eyes, Bruce fiercely glared at me. "I want Zachary to be ruined at the hands of his own daughter."