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Rising From The Ashes Of Betrayal Novel Cover

Rising From The Ashes Of Betrayal

I spent my whole life trying to fit into the "Kensington aesthetic," dyeing my hair blonde and playing dumb just to earn a crumb of my father's approval. But when the manor went up in flames, I realized I was never a daughter to them-I was just an inconvenience. I lay pinned under a heavy oak beam, the smell of copper and burnt sugar filling my lungs. My father, Arthur, stood in the doorway with my brothers, looking like a phalanx of saviors, but their eyes weren't on me. They rushed past my outstretched, bloody hand to save my sister, Karly, who was huddled in a corner without a scratch on her. My brother Archer scooped her up like spun glass, stepping over my crushed leg without a second glance. Just before they crossed the threshold, Karly looked back at me and smiled-a small, victorious, terrifying smile. My father didn't offer help; he just shouted that I was an arsonist and slammed the door, sentencing me to burn alive in my own bedroom. As the crystal chandelier melted and crashed toward me, I didn't feel fear anymore. I felt a guttural, distilled hate for the family that left me to die because of a lie. I had spent my life begging for scraps at a table that was never meant for me, and I died realizing they never loved me at all. "If I come back," I promised into the void, "I will burn you all down." I gasped for air and woke up in my bed, the smell of lavender replacing the smoke. It was September 14th, five years before the fire, the exact week I had started ruining myself to please them. I looked in the mirror, scrubbed off the pathetic makeup mask, and realized the old, desperate Kala was dead. If I was going to burn, I'd make sure they were the ones who felt the heat first. "Queen is back online," I whispered.
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Chapter 5

Karly slid from the sofa. It was a graceful collapse, like a swan dying in a ballet. She landed on her knees beside Arthur's legs, grabbing the fabric of his trousers.

"Daddy, please," she sobbed, looking up at him with wide, wet eyes. "Don't fight with Kala. It's my fault. I was careless... I shouldn't have upset her."

It was a masterclass in manipulation. The "retreat to advance." By taking the blame, she implied that Kala was upset, and therefore had caused the accident, even if Karly was "covering" for her.

Arthur's posture softened instantly. The businessman vanished; the protective patriarch returned. He reached down and stroked Karly's hair.

"See?" Arthur glared at Kala. "Look at her. She has more grace in her little finger than you have in your entire body."

Kala watched the performance. It was nauseating, but impressive.

"Karly," Kala said. Her voice cut through the sobbing like a scalpel.

Karly flinched, burying her face in Arthur's leg.

"You just said, 'I was careless,'" Kala quoted. "Is that correct?"

Karly nodded against the fabric. "Yes... I..."

"And then you said, 'I shouldn't have upset her,'" Kala continued. "Help me with the logic here. If you broke the vase because you were careless, how does my emotional state cause gravity to work on the porcelain?"

Karly lifted her head. Her eyes darted left and right. "I... I just meant..."

"If it was an accident caused by your clumsiness," Kala pressed, leaning forward in the chair, "then I didn't push you. If I pushed you, then it wasn't your carelessness. Which is it?"

Doloris looked between the two girls, her brow furrowed. The rapid-fire logic was making her dizzy.

"She's just trying to protect you, Kala!" Doloris snapped. "Why can't you see that?"

"Protect me from what?" Kala asked. "From a lie she created?"

Kala stood up. She walked over to where Karly was kneeling. She looked down at her sister-the girl who had smiled while Kala burned.

"Unless," Kala said softly, "you are implying that even if you broke it yourself, the responsibility belongs to me because my mere existence upsets you?"

"Stop twisting her words!" Jules shouted. "She's crying! Can't you see she's upset?"

"Tears are not evidence, Jules," Kala said without looking at him. "They are saltwater."

She crouched down, bringing her face level with Karly's.

"Your kindness is fake, Karly," Kala whispered, low enough that only Karly and Arthur could hear. "And your lies are sloppy. If you're going to frame me, at least make the timeline work."

Karly recoiled as if Kala had slapped her. The fear in her eyes was real now. She had never seen this Kala. This Kala was cold. This Kala was dangerous.

Arthur looked down at his two daughters. He felt a flicker of unease. Kala's argument was sound. Karly's story was fluid. But admitting that meant admitting he had been wrong, and Arthur Kensington was never wrong.

"Enough!" Arthur waved his hand dismissively. "It's a vase. I'll buy another one. I don't want to hear another word about it."

Karly's jaw dropped slightly. He was letting it go? Usually, Kala would be grounded for a month for breathing too loudly.

Kala stood up, dusting off her hands. She had won. It wasn't a total victory, but she had neutralized the threat.

But she knew Karly. Karly never fought with just one weapon.

Karly wiped her eyes. She looked at Archer. She gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

Archer's eyes lit up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"Fine," Archer announced, his voice booming with renewed confidence. "The vase was an accident. Whatever. But explain this, Kala!"

He thrust the phone screen toward Arthur.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, annoyed.

"It's The Daily Scandal," Archer sneered. "They just posted an exclusive. 'Kensington Empire on the Brink? Internal Debt Crisis Revealed.'"

Arthur snatched the phone. His face went gray.

"They have photos of the quarterly returns," Archer shouted, pointing a finger at Kala. "The documents that are only on the computer in your study. And guess who was the only person cleaning the study yesterday?"

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