Chapter 8: How Many Times
Naomi remained quiet, her body stiffening as she struggled to piece everything together. All this time, she had suffered immensely. She had been forced to cry, made to feel unsafe, and at times even wished for death. Yet, through it all, she hadn’t given in. Insecurity had plagued her, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed. But how had her sister managed to act so normal all these years? Throughout this past month, Naomi had been overwhelmed with feelings of worthlessness, and now she felt utterly foolish for not realizing sooner that her sister had been behind it all. How had she continued to speak with her so casually?
As for her mother, Naomi couldn’t entirely blame her. Both her mother and sister had been keeping dangerous secrets, secrets that, if revealed, could put them both in trouble. It made sense now why they had cooperated so closely, weaving a web of deceit that entangled them all. Naomi had always wondered why her mother never scolded Anna, no matter what mischief she got into. Instead, her mother coddled her, consistently choosing gentleness over discipline. It was a kindness Naomi had never been shown. After that fateful day, however, everything had grown worse.
But now, everything was starting to fall into place. Her father finally spoke, his voice trembling but somehow managing to maintain a little of composure. Naomi watched as her mother’s lips quivered, her body shaking just as much. Her mother appeared utterly broken as she glanced at her father, who seemed equally shattered, although he fought to keep his demeanor steady.
"Mr. Zylan, you can take Naomi with you," her father said, his voice barely holding steady. "Thank you for coming yourself."
He hadn’t expected Zylan to visit in person; it was a shocking turn of events. Not only had their family disgraced themselves, but something else had emerged—something even her father hadn’t known. He battled to keep his composure, determined not to break down in front of Mr. Zylan.
Zylan nodded, his expression unreadable, as though he had just watched an intriguing show unfold before him—except this time, he wasn’t just a spectator. He stood with an air of authority, exuding confidence as he walked toward the door. The moment he left, a woman entered the room and bowed her head respectfully.
"Good morning, Miss Naomi. I’ll take your things."
Naomi blinked, trying to comprehend the situation unfolding around her. Had her father really just agreed to let Zylan take her? And what about everything else—was his reputation truly all that mattered to him? Her mother was still trembling, unable to speak. Then, her father finally found his voice once more.
His hands clenched tightly into fists, his gaze fixed on his wife. Naomi had never heard her father sound so devastated, so broken. The raw emotion in his voice was something she had never experienced before. He looked at his wife with an expression that was part anger and part heartbreak.
"How many times?" he asked, his voice sharp and demanding.
Her mother, confused and trembling, stammered, "Huh?"