Chapter 51: Once Made Me Feel the Warmth of Heaven

The Mitchell family's current success was ill-gotten. Cheyenne, remembering this, clenched her fists under her sleeves. She had accidentally learned in middle school that Malaya, her mother's killer, was indirectly responsible for Selah's death.

In Cheyenne's memory, Malaya had been kind. When Cheyenne and Nora fought, Malaya would scold Nora and give Cheyenne the toy. She would pat Cheyenne's head gently, saying, "Cheyenne, remember you are a Lawrence. You deserve respect. Things you like belong to you. If someone else has them, take them back—by any means necessary!"

Later, Malaya bought Cheyenne many beautiful dresses, making her seem much older than she was. Cheyenne, until the age of fourteen, considered Malaya a mother figure. Then, she entered a piano competition, just like Nora. After practicing diligently, hoping to win and share her victory with Malaya, Cheyenne approached Malaya's room. Instead of celebration, she heard Nora crying.

"Mom, why did you let Cheyenne win? I played better!"

Malaya embraced Nora, wiping away her tears. Running her fingers through Nora's hair, she whispered, "This is for your own good. Being a stepmother is difficult. If I openly favored you, everyone would think I mistreated Cheyenne. They'd blame both of us, calling you a mistress's illegitimate child with no upbringing. But if Nora goes astray, it's her fault. I let Cheyenne win to boost your ego, to make you think you're unbeatable, self-centered. Then, Cheyenne, excelling without competition, will be the true Lawrence belle, a genuine young lady. Your frustration will pass. Your mother's dowry is yours. I'll find you a wealthy husband, a carefree life. Meanwhile, that bastard [Cheyenne] will be scorned."

The fourteen-year-old Cheyenne stood there, her mind blank, emotions surging. Tears welled in her eyes. She had been so naive. She'd believed Malaya genuinely loved her, seeking Malaya's affection and even competing with Nora for it. The brutal truth shattered her illusions. The woman who called her "darling" to her face labeled her a "bastard" behind her back.

Cheyenne, now completely sober, clenched her piano music. Glancing coldly at the hypocritical mother and daughter, a chill ran through her. Feeling her heart nearly stop, she decided: if her stepmother wanted a "useless person," she would become one.

Overnight, Cheyenne's personality changed. The overachiever became a pariah. Teachers called her a "weirdo." She read comics, fought, skipped class, and cheated. Every time the school called Malaya, she arrived smiling, defending Cheyenne while acknowledging her mistakes and persuading the teachers to forgive her. Stroking Cheyenne's head afterward, she said, "Since you dislike studying, I won't force you. I can help you find a school. You're young; youth has ups and downs. I was a worse student."

Cheyenne, however, was disgusted. She knew Malaya's success came from destroying a family, and that all Malaya's efforts to cultivate Cheyenne as a "spoiled rich girl" were merely stepping stones for Nora.

At fourteen, Cheyenne felt utterly alone and lost. The Lawrence family wasn't her home; her grandfather lived far away in Shedale and couldn't care for her. Once, she ran away and was missing for three days. She slept under a bridge and nearly froze to death. Then, a young man in his early twenties, seemingly by chance, gave her his coat before quietly leaving. Even half-asleep, Cheyenne saw him. The coat held a faint, elegant scent. It wasn't a dream; someone had truly helped her.

At fourteen, Cheyenne returned home, the coat still sealed in her closet. She wanted to return it to its owner—the one who had once shown her such kindness, now casting her into an abyss.