A suffocating sense of dread filled the air.


    Gaye recoiled, her neck shrinking into her shoulders, her earlier outburst dissolving into quiet, huping sobs.


    M said nothing. She forced a strained smile onto her face, trying to keep things calm as all eyes bore down on her. Gripping her mother''s arm, she steered the woman out of the school.


    She couldn''t let Gaye cause another scene here.


    Once outside the school gates, M realized it wasn''t just her mother who hade for her. Her father, Simon Suthend, and her uncle were there too.


    It was obvious they hadn''te with good intentions.


    Ignoring Gaye''sints about booking a hotel, M instead reserved a private dining room at a nearby restaurant and led them all there.


    She and Gaye arrived first.


    The moment they stepped inside, Gaye clung to her hand, tears streaming down her cheeks.


    "Oh, M, after all these years with no word from you, I thought I''d lost you-l cried myself to sleep every night. Now that I see you''re doing so well, I can finally rest easy."


    She looked the picture of motherly affection, as if she hadn''t just been threatening to kill herself and ming her daughter back at the school.


    M yanked her hand away, her voice cold. "Cut the act. Don''t pretend to care- it''s disgusting."


    "Oh, how can you talk to your mother like that? I went through so much to bring you into this world and raise you, and instead of being grateful, you insult me?" Gaye''s voice cracked as she started to sob again.


    Please. Gave birth to me? Raised me?


    If M hadn''t run away, she''d have starved or been beaten to death by now-or worse, sold off to buy her idiot brother a bride.


    After a while, seeing M remain unmoved, Gaye''s eyes flickered with calction. She reached out to stroke M''s yellow winter coat.


    "This is such a nice jacket. You''re living the good life out here, aren''t you? Why didn''t you evere home to tell us, let us stop worrying? You don''t know how hard things are for your father and me back home."


    M shoved her away.


    Gaye stumbled, stunned, her eyes instantly reddening. She turned and wailed just as a middle-aged man walked in.


    "Simon, look at your daughter! After all these years, she''s turned ungrateful-she even pushed me!"


    “Looks like you need a lesson. Forgot how to respect your elders, have you?"


    Simon''s face darkened. He raised his hand and pped hard. M jerked away, but his fingertips still caught her cheek, leaving a thin, bleeding scratch.


    It stung like fire.


    Old memories screamed inside her skull, sharp as knives. The room spun; nausea twisted in her gut.


    After a moment, she came back to herself-just in time to feel her scalp yanked backward. Her wool hat was torn off with a rough jerk.


    "This hat is so soft. I''ll just take it, thanks," Gaye said, running her fingers over the fabric. Her eyes drifted to M''s jacket, clearly wanting to take that too.


    M dodged.


    But she hadn''t counted on her youngest uncle-her mother''s little brother- walking in just then. As soon as he saw her, his eyes lit up, yellowed from years of drinking. He reached out to grab her.


    "Well, well, M, you''ve grown up into a real beauty."


    M''s face went ice-cold. She stomped down hard on his foot. As he howled in pain, she snatched a teacup off the table, smashed it, and shed the broken porcin across his hand.


    A thin line of blood oozed from his palm.


    M stood at the door, ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger, the bloodied shard aimed squarely at the furious faces in the room.


    "Why are you really here?" she demanded. "Don''t bother pretending. I know exactly what you all are."


    "If you want to keep making a scene, fine. But know this: if I go down, I''m taking a few of you with me."


    Her hand shook slightly around the shard, but M knew she couldn''t show a hint


    of weakness. If she wavered now, these greedy, heartless wolves would tear her to pieces.


    She didn''t know how they''d found her.


    But she was certain-they hadn''te all this way just to make a fuss. They wanted something.


    Sure enough.


    After all the shouting, M''s willingness to go down fighting finally made them hesitate.


    After all, she was their own flesh and blood-and they knew her well enough to realize that if they pushed her too far, she''d do something reckless. This was the only way to force them to sit down and talk.


    It only took a few words for M to figure out what they wanted. She was speechless.


    They were here to force her into marriage.


    All these yearster, they were still trying to squeeze whatever value they could


    from her-setting her up with some stranger she''d never met, just to get a dowry for her useless brother.


    Their persistence was truly something to behold.