My Luck, Reclaimed

“You’re a piggy or what, eating so fast,” Shawn said gently as he stroked my head.

Back then, I wasn’t crying because I was hungry.

Rather, it was because he had been caught by the orphanage director stealing ham sandwiches, and the director beat him mercilessly with a wooden stick.

He clutched the ham sandwiches tightly to his chest, and when he handed them to me, his whole body was covered in bruises.

There were several bloody scratches on his gaunt face, yet his eyes shone brightly as he smiled and urged me to eat quickly.

“You’re hopeless, aren’t you? I’ll have to earn a fortune someday just to support you,” Shawn said with little thought and much carefreeness.

Tears streamed uncontrollably down my cheeks as I lowered my head further.

It was the first time anyone had ever been so kind to me.

I was really moved.

Therefore, back then, I lent him my rabbit’s foot luck. He could then steal ham sandwiches without getting caught by the director.

From then on, everything was smooth sailing for him. Even the director began to treat him kindly.

As for me, I never went hungry again. Whenever Shawn got something good, he would always think of me first.

A sharp pain in my stomach yanked me back to reality.

I was thrown into a van, and Shawn vanished from my sight.

When I awoke, I found myself inside a cramped space.

Shivers ran down my spine as a thought struck me.

My body went numb, as if someone had plugged live wires directly into me.

“Let me out! Let me out!”

I suffered from claustrophobia, something that Shawn knew.

My heart clenched as tears welled up in my nearly dry eyes and my pulse quickened.

A deep sense of unease washed over me. I kept screaming for help, but gradually, I felt my breathing grow labored.

A small speaker inside the space crackled.

“This is what you deserve, Snow Crawford. If it weren’t for you, Summer wouldn’t have died.”

I couldn’t hear what Shawn said afterward as my consciousness began to fade.

I was the one who saved Summer Manning.

You were the one who killed her.

Why was I the one suffering?

…

“Hey, dummy. Did you not hear what I said?”

A haughty female voice rang in my ear.

My mind thundered. The claustrophobic terror hadn’t yet faded when Shawn’s expressionless face came into view.

I thought this was the afterlife.

A wave of intense grievance surged within me. I swung my arm in a full arc and slapped Shawn hard across the face.

He stared wide-eyed at me, clearly not having processed what had happened.

After letting out a startled cry, Summer, who had spoken earlier, rushed forward and shoved me to the ground.

“Are you crazy? You don’t even respond when I talk to you, and now you hit Shawn? Have you gone mad?”

Summer gently touched Shawn’s swollen cheek with concern.

“Shawn, I told you so. Your little sister here is problematic, but you wouldn’t believe me. Now she’s even hitting you.”

Perhaps still unsatisfied, she glared at me with fury and lunged for another kick, which I dodged.

“You dare dodge?”

Seconds later, Summer’s screams filled the air. Like a rabid tigress, I pounced on her, grabbed her hair, and yanked it viciously.

Strands of hair floated to the ground. My eyes were brimming with tears of hurt and rage, yet my hands grew more brutal with each tug.

It was you, damned woman. You made my life a living hell.

It was all you. All of it, you.

By the time Shawn reacted, I had already beaten Summer down onto the ground.

Only then did some emotions return to his face.

He shoved me aside angrily and carefully lifted Summer into his arms.

I saw clearly. Both his hands were trembling.