Chapter 95: The Owen Who Died

Gill locked both of Elsie’s wrists from behind. With her arms pinned tight, Elsie couldn’t move at all.

“Ow-” Her cry for help had barely left her mouth before a loud smack rang out, and her face snapped sideways. A bright red handprint bloomed across her cheek.

Owen’s eyes went wide. He spun toward Yunice, stunned. She had hit Elsie. Three years ago, she’d stabbed her. And now—after all that—she dared to lay hands on her again?

So much for learning anything in the asylum. If anything, she’d only gotten worse.

As Owen lunged forward, Yunice struck again—this time across the other cheek.

“Aah!” Elsie cried out, her voice shrill with pain. She thrashed, but Gill clamped a hand over her mouth with her lab coat. She wasn’t about to let this two-faced bitch get in Yunice’s way again.

Yunice said coldly, “Don’t think I won’t hit you just because you know how to fake a sob.”

Owen charged forward, hand raised—but before he could strike, Yunice met his gaze with a voice like ice.

“Before you lay a hand on me,” she said, “take a moment to think about who I am now.”

His body locked up like someone had hit the pause button. He stared at her, frozen. She glanced at his raised hand and added, “Maybe you haven’t seen what Wyatt does to people who cross him. Want a demonstration?”

For a second, it seemed like Owen might back off. Then—he shoved her to the floor.

“Oh, so that’s what this is. You got your claws out now because some man’s backing you?”

“I’m your brother. Your family. And you threaten me with an outsider?” He shouted, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Tell me—honestly—haven’t I always treated you well?” He didn’t wait for her answer.

“When we were little, Dad was always away. Oscar had school. It was me who carried you on my back every single day. I threw my back out doing it. Still can’t sit or stand for long.”

“And when you were thirteen—you caught that weird illness after obsessing over those roses beyond the courtyard wall. You’d cry for no reason. I crossed half the country to find an old gardener with rare herbs to cure you. I almost got kidnapped along the way.”

Yunice’s eyes turned red. Her nose stung. Despite everything, her heart tightened with emotion. But her gaze remained hard.

Owen kept going.

“That jewelry cabinet I gave you—remember that? It wasn’t just a gift. I built it by hand. Learned from scratch. Took me six months. I wore my fingers raw until I didn’t have fingerprints left.”

Tears slipped down Yunice’s cheeks. But she didn’t break.

Maybe he moved himself with that speech, because seeing her cry, Owen’s own nose twitched, his voice catching. “So why are you crying? If anyone should cry, it’s Elsie. You just slapped her.”

Yunice curled her lips into a hollow smile. She let the tears fall. She didn’t cry from weakness or guilt—just quiet incomprehension.

Owen hadn’t lied. Their sibling bond had once been real. He had cared for her. And maybe that was why it hurt so much now.

Yunice wiped her cheeks and spoke, “So you remember all of that? Every single detail. You’ve got it all lined up like a case file.”

She took a breath. “I admit it—when we were kids, you were the best big brother. The kind of brother who made me believe… even when I was left to die in a burning house… even when I was locked away in that asylum… I kept making excuses for you.”

He must’ve been misled. This isn’t like him. Someone else must’ve turned him against me.

“You treated me differently. And I didn’t hate you. I blamed myself. I wondered over and over why you changed? Why did the Owen who loved me disappear? Was I just a disappointment? Was I that hard to love? Was I really so awful you couldn’t stand me anymore?”

Owen’s chest rose and fell. Her words unsettled him. But he still didn’t think he was wrong. This was all her fault. He hadn’t meant to hurt her.

Yunice’s voice sharpened. “But eventually, I figured it out. It wasn’t me. And it wasn’t Elsie either,”

Owen’s gaze darkened. If it’s not you or Elsie… then what’s me?

Yunice lifted her chin, her voice clear and unwavering.

“It’s you, Owen. You’re the one who changed. The brother I loved died a long time ago.”

Owen stared at her with wide, wet eyes. Shock and rage collided in his chest, threatening to spill over with the tears.

The Daughter in the Shadows