From Ruin, She Rose - Chapter 17: Chapter 17

A loud crash filled the room as cups and decorations broke on the floor, sending glass pieces flying everywhere. Some sharp bits landed near Lydia's feet.
Lydia froze with a startled gasp while Andrew, Vincent, and Emma immediately surged forward to surround her.
"Are you hurt?" they chorused, their voices overlapping.
No one saw Emily collide with the coffee table or witnessed her near fall into the broken glass.
Expecting no assistance, Emily had already shoved herself sideways with desperate force. Several glass shards stabbed deep into her palm, but she was relieved that she'd avoided tumbling fully into the debris.
Shielded by her protectors, Lydia looked unnaturally pale. "I-I'm fine," she whispered, her hands trembling visibly.
Emma exhaled in relief before her gaze landed on Emily. She stiffened at the sight of blood dripping from Emily's hand onto the floor. "Emily... you're bleeding."
The observation snapped all attention toward Emily. Blood ran freely from her wound, yet she merely pressed her lips together in silence, her quiet defiance stunning the room into silence.
Emily angled her bleeding hand away from her clothing as she stood. When her eyes met Lucas's, they burned with quiet fury. "Does this satisfy your demand for an apology?" she asked, raising her wounded palm.
Lucas went rigid, his gaze skittering away from the vivid crimson streaking Emily's fingers.
Lydia immediately moved between them. "Please don't blame Lucas," she said hurriedly. "He didn't mean to hurt you. It was just a light push. How could you have fallen so badly?"
Emily's gaze turned razor-sharp. "Are you suggesting I injured myself intentionally, Ms. Bennett?"
Lydia recoiled as if struck. "No. I only meant... the way you fell seems inconsistent with just hurting your hand."
"Then what would satisfy you?" Emily's voice sliced through the air. "Should I have impaled myself on the glass completely?"
Tears welled in Lydia's eyes. "That's not what I meant."
Any remorse Lucas had felt vanished. He moved protectively in front of Lydia, glaring at Emily. "Watch your tone," he growled. "Looks like you lost it when Lydia saw through your little game."
Emily held his glare without flinching. "What exactly do you want from me, Mr. Bennett?" Her voice remained eerily calm. "When I denied targeting Ms. Bennett, you called me wicked. Now I admit fault and apologize, and you call it sarcasm.
"I simply asked what Ms. Bennett was implying and what you all expect from me. But then you objected to my tone. So tell me exactly what attitude you'd prefer."
She was done playing their games. If they wanted something from her, they could just say it plainly, and she'd comply without protest.
Something about her—maybe the eerie calm in her eyes, or the raw edge in her voice—froze everyone in place.
A drop of blood fell from Emily's finger, striking the floor with startling vividness. In that suspended moment, it might as well have been a dagger plunging into Emma and the others' conscience.
Lydia caught the changing atmosphere, something unreadable flashing behind her eyes. She moved forward hastily. "Emily, Lucas was just being protective. Please don't quarrel over this."
She pulled at Lucas's sleeve. "Can't you see she's injured? For my sake, just accept it was an accident."
Lucas shook himself, his brow furrowing. "Lydia, she's only acting this way because she knows you'll take pity on her."
He scoffed at Emily. "She hurts herself on purpose and then conveniently shows off the scars—just to guilt us into forgetting what she's done. She's perfected the act."
Vincent stiffened at the accusation, his gaze dropping instinctively to Emily's leg—but her jeans hid any evidence now.
Emily met Lucas's glare with a bitter smile. "Funny. You of all people should remember who used that trick constantly."
The memory struck home. At seventeen, Lucas had stolen a million dollars' worth of Emma's jewelry to finance his car obsession.
After being caught, desperate and cornered, he'd begged Emily for help. Her solution was simple—fake an injury, play the victim, and then sweet-talk his way to forgiveness.
It had worked flawlessly, so well that Lucas reused the strategy every time he screwed up afterward.
Emily had warned him it would hurt Emma, that the lies would backfire eventually, but he hadn't listened.
Now, shame flashed across Lucas's face—brief but unmistakable. He recovered quickly, snapping, "You invented it. Of course, you'd be better at it than me."
Exhaustion settled over Emily like a weight. "Believe what you want," she said flatly, turning away. "I'll be in my room. Don't worry—I won't disturb you again."
Emily kept her eyes down as she turned toward the small servant's quarters in the corner.
Lucas tensed at her silent dismissal and moved to follow, but Vincent caught his arm.
"Let it be," Vincent said, his gaze fixed on Emily's retreating figure. Something about the rigid set of her shoulders made his chest constrict.
"You claimed Emily would hurt herself on purpose and then show off the scars. Was that really her pattern before?" he continued.
A flicker of guilt crossed Lucas's features before hardening into defiance. He jerked free of Vincent's grip. "Now I'm the dishonest one?" he spat. "Fine. When she starts playing the victim to manipulate you, remember you chose not to listen."
Vincent clenched his jaw, irritation darkening his features. 'She deliberately brought up how I deceived her two years ago just to make me feel guilty.
'Then she kept hinting at how much she's suffered and made sure I saw the scars on her leg just to make me feel sorry for her. After all this time apart, she's only become more manipulative,' he thought, seething.
Lydia, sensing the rising tension, moved to Vincent's side and clasped his hand. "Please," she murmured, "don't be hard on Emily. She's only just returned. We should give her time."
She played the devoted sister flawlessly. After a thoughtful pause, her face brightened with an idea. Turning to Emma, she suggested, "Mom, why don't we host a welcome party for Emily?
"All her old friends in Cloudridge could come. Being around familiar faces might help her settle in."
Lucas's displeasure showed immediately. "After how she's treated you? Why bother?"
Lydia's smile remained gentle. "I don't mind the unfair treatment, so long as Emily eventually accepts me."
Emma stroked her daughter's hair affectionately. "If only Emily possessed even a fraction of your kindness."
Lydia's gaze dipped momentarily, her practiced smile never slipping as she masked the calculation in her eyes. When she looked up again, her expression was all bright enthusiasm. "Let's make it a surprise party," she proposed. "It'll mean more if Emily doesn't know beforehand."
Emma's gaze warmed. "As you wish, darling."