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Memory of the Wronged Novel Cover

Memory of the Wronged

To locate a missing fake heiress, a family forces their daughter to undergo a memory extraction, certain she bullied the girl into fleeing. However, as her repressed history is displayed, the truth reveals she was the actual victim of years of torment. Her parents and brother are consumed by agonizing guilt upon witnessing their mistakes. Yet, as they reach out to make amends, the girl looks at them with vacant eyes, having lost all recollection of who they are.
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Chapter 5

My parents looked disgusted too.

“She wet herself the first time we met her. Is she stupid? Couldn’t she use the bathroom before getting in the car?” Ben snapped.

Mary sighed. “She really isn’t normal. Even if she had to go, couldn’t she just say something? Instead, she suddenly peed in the car. If word gets out, how will the Zeller family ever hold its head high?”

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

So they had despised me from the very beginning.

They just never said it out loud.

The dream continued, clear and vivid.

When we returned to the mansion, the housekeeper had already cleaned up. I was greeted with a grand welcome that had clearly been planned in advance.

Everyone seemed genuinely happy to see me.

After the small celebration, I was given a bedroom on the third floor.

Emily helped me make the bed, still as cheerful as ever, comforting me about what had happened.

“Lily, don’t take it to heart. None of us care about that. Get some rest, and later I’ll take you shopping,” she said brightly.

She was so warm and kind.

At the time, I was still grateful to her. But I wasn’t naive. I had a faint suspicion there was something wrong with that lemon tea.

So I said gently, “Emily, did you add something weird to the lemon tea? I started feeling strange and lost control of my bladder right after drinking it.”

I had never imagined she did it on purpose, so I asked her directly.

Emily froze for a second, then turned and smiled. “Oh, so you figured it out? I didn’t think you’d notice. But it doesn’t matter. I just added a little diuretic.”

I stared at her, confused. “What’s a diuretic?”

After fifteen years in the countryside, I knew nothing beyond how to work the fields and endure beatings.

Emily let out a soft laugh. “It’s good for your stomach. You’re going to be treated like a princess now, so I wanted to help you get healthier first. You don’t mind, right? I didn’t expect you to actually pee in the car.”

Her smile shifted. The playfulness vanished, replaced by something sharp and smug.

That was when I realized it had all been her doing.

But after years of abuse and humiliation, I had already learned to stay silent.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. All I felt was the dull ache in my chest.

Seeing me like that, Emily covered her mouth to hide a laugh. Then she stumbled out of the room in a dramatic rush, tears suddenly spilling down her face.

Startled, I stood up just as she ran straight into Steve’s arms on the stairs.

He immediately asked what was wrong.

Emily shook her head, pretending not to want to say. Steve frowned and pulled her closer. “Tell me,” he said.

“It’s my fault,” she sobbed. “I shouldn’t have given her the lemon tea. She wet herself because of it. She got mad and scolded me. I just wanted to do something nice for her.”

Her tearful words made Steve’s expression darken instantly.

My parents heard everything from downstairs and came up to comfort her.

They all stood outside my door, looking in at me without saying a word.

It felt like there was an invisible wall between us, one I could never cross.

I sank down on the bed and curled up.

So this new home wasn’t the paradise I imagined.

It had its monster too.

*

The distant memory brought tears to my eyes.

I didn’t want to see more.

I forced my eyes open.

Mr. Wilson stood in front of me, observing and taking notes.

Beside him, my parents and Steve removed their helmets one by one, taking a break. Their expressions were strange. They exchanged glances but said nothing.

Tears were still streaming down my face.

I wasn’t even sad anymore. It was just the force of the memory overwhelming me, squeezing tears out of me before I could stop them.

“Alright, stop crying,” Steve muttered. He pressed his lips together. “I misjudged you back then. Emily was just a kid, always playing around. Don’t take it too seriously.”