Chapter 334 The Burden of Being “Lucky”
Jonathan’s casual im that he wasn’t busy nearly made Zion cry.
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Work was piling so high it could crush a man, yet here Jonathan was, tossing out lines sweet enough to rot teeth. Zion had no choice but to swallow the syrup every time he even thought aboutining.
“Really not busy?” Anneliese didn’t sound convinced, though her hand gripped his sleeve tighter.
Deep down, she just didn’t want him to go.
Jonathan gently covered her tense grip with his palm, a helpless smile spreading across his face. “Not convinced? Check with Zion.”
Her eyes
shifted toward Zion. He bobbed his head instantly. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Fullbuster. Mr. Fullbuster’s had plenty of free timetely. It’s almost lunch anyway–I’ll go buy us some bites.”
He hurried off, leaving the two of them alone. Jonathan tilted her head gently until it rested against his shoulder.
His scent was crisp, grounding, and for some reason, it made Anneliese’s chest ache. Words
stop them. spilled out before she could
“They took me in when I was five. My parents were amazing–Dad was a fire chief, Mom taught art. They loved each other, and they loved me as if I were truly theirs.
“Between five and nine, life couldn’t have been better. I had a family, a warm little home. We weren’t rich, but we had everything that mattered. For a while, I believed that happiness wouldst forever. Then…”
Her voice shook. Tears slipped down her cheeks.
She didn’t notice Jonathan stiffen beside her or the storm brewing in his dark eyes.
my brother’s “Good things neverst. That year, Mom got pregnant atst. They kept saying I was the lucky star who gave them aplete family. Everyone was counting the days until birth. Then Dad…
“He died. Mom, already fragile, copsed the moment she heard. She fell on the stairs, and the doctors fought through the night, but…”
Over a decade had passed. Time dulled the de, but speaking it aloud now cut her
all open
Chapter 334 The Burden of Being “Lucky”
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Grandma is the only <i>family </i><i>I </i>have left. <i>If </i><i>I </i><i>lost </i><i>her </i>as well, what then? Anneliese bit her lip until it hurt. A bitterugh broke from her trembling lips.
“Lucky star? Guess I’m more like a curse.”
The words wed their way out, heavy as stone.
Anneliese thought, Swapped at birth, <i>abandoned</i><i>, </i><i>and </i><i>I’m </i>still <i>here</i>. Maybe just surviving is the curse. My adoptive parents died <i>too </i><i>early</i><i>, </i><i>my </i><i>real </i><i>ones </i><i>wanted </i><i>nothing </i><i>to </i><i>do </i><i>with </i>me, and now Grandma’s lying on that table because <i>of </i>me.
The guilt was suffocating.
“Anne! Stop it. You’re not a curse.” Jonathan framed her face in his hands, rough palms wiping at her tears. His voice was low, fierce, steady–like a drum cutting through fog.
Hershes fluttered. She looked up, startled. Jonathan’s usualposure was gone. His face was tight with worry, his eyes raw with something she couldn’t even name.
“Aren’t I? If I had told Grandma everything earlier, maybe she wouldn’t be in surgery right now. I knew what the Shaws were like. Why didn’t I hire protection for the hospital? They came for her on purpose, and it’s my fault. I…”
Her voice cracked, guilt gnawing at every word.
Then the memories she tried so hard to bury came rushing back.
‘<i>Kids </i><i>from </i><i>orphanages </i><i>always </i><i>bring </i><i>misfortune</i><i>. </i><i>Look </i><i>at </i><i>her</i>–<i>Frederick’s </i><i>whole </i><i>family </i><i>gone </i>in <i>just </i><i>a </i>few <i>years</i>.‘
‘Ms. <i>Alston </i><i>was </i>too <i>old </i><i>to </i><i>have </i><i>a </i><i>baby</i>. <i>Frederick </i><i>had </i><i>to </i><i>support </i><i>two </i><i>kids </i><i>and </i><i>too </i><i>many </i><i>bills</i><i>. </i><i>If </i><i>he </i><i>hadn’t </i><i>been </i><i>working </i><i>himself </i><i>to </i><i>death</i><i>, </i><i>maybe </i><i>he’d </i><i>still </i><i>be </i><i>alive </i><i>today</i><i>. </i><i>Maybe </i><i>none </i><i>of </i><i>this </i><i>would </i><i>have </i><i>happened </i><i>if </i><i>they </i><i>hadn’t </i><i>adopted </i><i>Anne</i><i>.</i><i>‘ </i>
<i>Just </i><i>the </i><i>other </i><i>day</i><i>, </i><i>I </i><i>saw </i><i>Frederick </i><i>get </i><i>his </i><i>little </i><i>girl </i><i>a </i><i>brand</i><i>–</i><i>new </i><i>schoolbag</i><i>. </i><i>Not </i><i>cheap </i><i>either</i><i>. </i><i>Maybe </i><i>that </i><i>girl </i><i>really </i><i>is </i><i>cursed</i><i>.</i>”
At her adoptive parents‘ funeral, the whispers had been like knives. Rtives pointed, voices dripping with poison.
Nishay had been the only shield Anneliese had. Wreath in hand, she had stood before her and silenced them all.
Chapter 334 The Burden of Being “Lucky”
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She told Anneliese those people were only after Frederick’spensation and the house, that their venom was nothing but greed, that she should never let their words stick.
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