Chapter 187: The Scapegoat

As he spoke, Owen tossed a handful of candy onto the desk. His eyes turned red; he was clearly moved. “Melina even praised you. She said even though she’s never met you, she just knows you must be a good kid. She even asked me to bring you some candy!”

His nose tingled with emotion, but when he saw Yunice still standing there stiffly like a piece of wood, he couldn’t hold back anymore. Furious, he grabbed her and pushed her toward the desk, forcing her to look at the candy.

“She saved these one by one for you—said you’re picky and only eat the good stuff. Do you know how much effort it took for a blind woman in a place like that to stash these away? Do you even think about Lauren’s face every time you visit her? Doesn’t it eat at you at all?”

Yunice’s throat tightened as she stared at the candy. Melina was blind—how could she even tell which ones were good? But these candies were clean, high-end, expensive. She must’ve tried everything, asked person after person, filtered through them all just to set aside these few for her.

Yunice’s fingers curled inward as she gently gathered the candies together, her voice low and quiet. “It’s not like that…”

“What?” Owen’s brows locked in a hard frown. Everything was right there in front of her, and she still wouldn’t admit it?

He snapped, “You think if you just deny it, no one will come after you? The investigation records from the psych ward are crystal clear—Lauren was only outside that day because of you! You tricked her into taking your turn outside, made her carry your bag, and that’s why those lunatics mistook her for you. That’s why they picked her for that game of human pyramid! She was young; she didn’t even know how to play. And just like that, she died in your place…”

Owen was full of guilt and regret.

Yunice gave a bitter smile and replied, “So, since I had experience, I should’ve been the one to die.”

Owen choked on his words; he realized his phrasing had been all wrong. He’d been through that pile-up himself. How could anyone call it a game? It was abuse and torment. Just because Yunice didn’t die the first time it happened didn’t mean they had to keep making her their target. If they hadn’t gotten the wrong person that day, then Yunice might have been the one who died instead.

A heavy pressure sank into Owen’s chest. He still thought Yunice bore some responsibility, but maybe not as much as he’d thought.

Elsie, ever the peacemaker, spoke up gently, “Yunice, of course you feel guilty. I knew you would; that’s why I went to see Lauren’s relatives yesterday and gave them some compensation. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

She hadn’t finished before Yunice cut her off with a sharp glare. “Who did you go see?”

“Huh?” Elsie let out a startled gasp, as if Yunice’s tone had frightened her. She clutched her injured hand and immediately ducked behind Paul.

Paul moved to shield her, snapping coldly, “As long as I’m here, don’t even think about laying a finger on Elsie again!”

Yunice ignored him like he didn’t exist. Her eyes stayed locked on Elsie. “You went to see Lauren’s uncle and aunt? And you gave them compensation?”

Owen stepped in to block her. “Elsie meant well. Lauren died in your place—our family should be the one to make it right. Elsie knew you’d never swallow your pride to do it yourself, so she did it for you. You should be thanking her.”

“I should be thanking her,” Yunice said—and without warning, slapped Elsie across the face. Paul didn’t even have time to react.

No one had expected Yunice to lash out so suddenly.

“You know why I hit you?” she barked, halting both Owen and Paul in their tracks as they moved to defend Elsie.

“You all focused on how Lauren died, but did any of you bother to ask why she was sent to the psych ward in the first place?” Her eyes bore into Elsie.

Elsie held her cheek, tears brimming in her eyes, her expression full of helpless grievance. “She was mentally ill…”

Owen scolded Yunice too. “What are you getting at? Are you saying there was some other reason Lauren was institutionalized?”

“Just because someone’s in a psych ward doesn’t automatically mean they’re mentally ill,” Yunice said, turning to face Owen head-on.

Owen fell silent. He knew that wasn’t true. Yunice herself had been committed on a forged diagnosis. She’d been perfectly sane.

Wait. Owen’s eyes widened with realization. “Lauren’s uncle and aunt forged documents to get her committed?”

Not completely brain-dead after all. Yunice curled her lips into a cold smile. “Lauren was an orphan. Her uncle and aunt were her legal guardians. They treated her like free labor. Then one day, when their kid got into trouble, they used Lauren as the scapegoat. That’s how she ended up in that institution.”

Owen hesitated. “Even so, they were still her legal guardians. Elsie going to them with compensation wasn’t technically wrong.”