Part 2My Family’s Regret

Mrs. Reed froze, her hand hovering in the air. The eager anticipation on her face curdled into confusion. I glanced at Olivia, whose expression was stiff and unnatural.

Mr. Reed quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “That’s all right. If you’re allergic to gold, we’ll pick something else. Just tell us what you like.”

I shook my head. “That’s not necessary. I just came for dinner. I’ll be leaving right after.”

Mrs. Reed opened her mouth, then closed it.

But Olivia muttered just loud enough for me to hear, “So pretentious.”

We sat down to a table laden with food.

“Chloe, I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made a little of everything,” Mrs. Reed chirped. “I hope you find something you enjoy.”

My eyes scanned the table. Roast pork, glazed fish—all my childhood favorites. Back then, we were so poor we only had food like this on holidays, and even then, I only got the leftovers.

“Thank you, but I prefer spicy food now.”

As if she hadn’t heard me, she placed a large piece of pork in my bowl.

“Eat up. You’re too thin. You need to build yourself up.”

I stared at the perfect cut of meat in my bowl and didn’t touch my chopsticks.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, a concerned frown on her face. “Don’t you like it?” She took a bite from the serving platter herself. “The taste is fine. It’s just like I used to make it.”

I put down my chopsticks and cut to the chase.

“Let’s be honest. You didn’t invite me here just for dinner, did you?”

The couple exchanged a look, their expressions complex.

Mr. Reed spoke first. “You’re overthinking it. We just wanted to have a meal with you.”

I wasn’t a fool. I knew what this was about. But twelve years was a long time. Some things couldn’t be undone.

“I know you’ve guessed who I am, and I won’t deny it. I was once your daughter,” I said, my voice even. “But I sincerely hope you won’t try to interfere in my life again. Let’s just consider this our last meal together.”

Mrs. Reed grabbed my hand, her voice urgent. “Sunny, we…”

I pulled my hand away, cutting her off. “My name is Chloe. Not Sunny.”

The name Sunny died the day they sent me away.

Suddenly, Mr. Reed’s face hardened. “Is that any way to talk to your parents?” he demanded, his voice rising. “Your mother was up at dawn, cooking and thinking about you all morning. And this is how you repay her?”

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped my lips. I fought back the wave of grief and anger that threatened to overwhelm me.

“And did you ever do right by me?”

My question silenced them.

Olivia chimed in from the side, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You fought so hard to get back here. We all know what you’re really after. Who do you think you’re fooling with this righteous act?”

“Olivia, that’s enough!” Mrs. Reed hissed.

Olivia pouted. “What? Am I wrong? This is who she is!”

I was done arguing. I stood up to leave.

“Stop!”

Mr. Reed called out. He pulled a bank card from his wallet and tossed it on the table in front of me. “There’s fifty thousand dollars on that. For your college expenses.”

I didn’t even look at it. I walked out of the villa without a backward glance, leaving everything behind me.

I heard Mrs. Reed start to follow, but Olivia stopped her.

“Mom, don’t you see? It’s not enough for her. She wants so much more than that!”

Mr. Reed’s voice was cold and hard. “Giving her up was the best decision I ever made.”

I heard every word. I told myself not to care, not to let it hurt. But a sharp pain twisted in my chest, tight and suffocating.

Was that really how they saw me? As something cheap and manipulative?

All I wanted was to live my life in peace. Was that so wrong?

I got back to my apartment and collapsed on the sofa, trying to let the emotional and physical exhaustion wash over me.

Suddenly, the bedroom door burst open and three masked men rushed out.

They moved fast. One clamped a hand over my mouth, stifling my scream. Another grabbed my arms, his grip brutal, and started tearing at my clothes. The third one held up a phone, a sick grin on his face, snapping pictures and spewing disgusting filth.

After the photos, they moved to assault me.

My vision turned red. I fought back with everything I had. I remembered the small fruit knife I kept tucked under the sofa cushion for protection.

My hand found it. I pulled it free and slashed wildly.

“Get out! All of you, get out!” I screamed, my voice raw. “If you don’t get out, I’ll kill you!”

At first, they laughed, trying to wrestle the knife from me. But my desperation gave me strength. I was a cornered animal. One of them yelped as the blade sliced his arm. Cursing, they finally backed off and fled.

My hands shaking, I bolted the door and checked every corner of the apartment. Only when I was sure I was alone did I sink to the floor, my clothes in tatters.

And then, the tears finally came.

I called the police that night, thinking the worst was over.

It wasn't until I opened my phone the next morning that I realized it had just begun.

The university’s online forum was flooded with my pictures.