Chapter 10: Jealousy: A Tiny Lesson

David beamed, “Perfect! You’re truly a gift from God to me.”

Saying this, he took a photo, then placed the gifts he had prepared into their hands.

Louis felt awkward; before his memories awakened, it was fine, but now, being praised like this after remembering everything, a sense of shame gnawed at him—he wished he could crawl into a crack in the floor.

But there was nothing he could do; after all, he was currently a child, and he had to learn to accept it. Besides, reliving childhood was a wish many could only dream of.

Emma, however, maintained a constant smile of delight.

She took the gift box and thanked him.

The family began slicing the turkey and cutting the cake. Though none of them believed in Christ, since it was Christmas, they murmured a few prayers anyway.

It has to be said that Louis has long held a misconception about America: despite appearing delicious, turkey is actually quite tasteless, with dry, chewy meat that feels like gnawing on firewood, and the seasoning barely penetrates—it’s nowhere near as good as a single ordinary chicken!

[8] To be fair, Louis had long held a misconception about America: the turkey, though it looked delicious, was utterly tasteless—its meat was dry, chewy like splinters of wood, and the seasoning barely penetrated. Aside from its size and sheer meat yield, it was inferior to a single ordinary chicken leg.

Of course, occasionally trying it was still fine.

Louis took only a bite of the turkey, focusing instead on the cake and roasted meat. The roasted meat, coated in cumin and chili powder, burst with juice—it was one of Louis’s favorite foods.

David grinned widely, roasting as much meat as Louis ate, occasionally slicing off a piece of turkey, dusting it with seasoning, and handing him a glass of water.

He kept praising, “Louis has been so well-behaved lately—he helps with chores and does excellently in school. This is your reward…”

Emma, sitting alone eating cake, slowly lost her smile.

She was angry.

Her accomplice, her “friend,” was now stealing her share—unforgivable!

This wasn’t the first time he’d done this.

She needed to teach him a lesson.

But at that moment, Louis looked over and speared a piece of turkey onto Emma’s plate.

David beamed with satisfaction. Emma bit her lip. “Thank you.”

Under the table, her left hand clenched into a tight fist.

Louis glanced at her, indifferent to the malice in her eyes. She thought he was stealing her father’s love, but in truth, this was merely David’s sympathy for this “orphan,” plus a reward for Louis’s help over the past weeks.

If she had observed closely, she’d have noticed that the only part of her cake with fruit was the portion she received—she wasn’t given roasted meat because she hated it.

But she wouldn’t notice—or rather, she had noticed, but it didn’t matter!

Because Louis had already disrupted her father’s love for her—her interests had been violated!

Soon.

Christmas ended. Emma turned eight. Louis turned seven.

Emma returned to her room after eating. Louis washed the dishes before going upstairs.

Upstairs, Louis first checked the hair strand caught in his door crack—seeing it still there, he relaxed and opened the door. Inside, he unwrapped his gift: a neatly polished peachwood short sword.

“??? He noticed?”

Previously, he had asked about peachwood and even spent his pocket money to buy a charm from an old man on the nearby shopping street. He never expected that single inquiry would stick in David’s mind—it seemed David had bought it from Chinatown.

David really was a good man. Fine. Decided: this socially deviant, daughter-killing bastard—I’ll be the one to reform you!

Swinging the short sword, Louis didn’t rush to sleep. He didn’t believe Emma, a sociopath who had just harbored ill intent, would simply hold back—she’d act.

One a.m.

Click.

The door opened slowly.

A foot stepped in quietly.

The next second—snap.

The lights blazed on.

Louis watched with interest as Emma, tiptoeing, held a music box.

“Emma, you came to my room at midnight to give me a gift?”

Emma froze. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Y-yes. On a holiday like this, an older sister should give her little brother a gift.”

“Oh? I hope you’re not planning to give me this gift, then tell David I stole it.” Louis smiled sweetly as he walked over and shut the door.

“No! How could you think that of me? I’m the one who convinced Dad to take you in—I’d never do something like that.” Emma spoke, but her feet edged backward.

Louis rolled his eyes, tired of the act. “Emma, I have no intention of stealing your father’s love, nor do I plan to stay here forever. So stop scheming against me. This is a warning. Next time, it won’t be a joke.”

Said.

[45] Said.

Louis stepped forward two paces and patted Emma on the shoulder.

The next second.

Emma’s vision blurred slightly. A faint voice echoed in her ears—her own inner voice, yet carrying an undeniable, persuasive power.

Hallucinations flickered before her: her father tucking her in, soothing her to sleep. Yes, I should go back to my room and sleep.

One step, two steps, three steps…

She stumbled out of Louis’s room, still closing the door behind her.

Watching her leave, Louis glanced at the faint hallucinogenic powder caught under his fingernails and nodded. The Illusion Thread Technique was nearly mastered.

Dawn broke.

At six a.m.

Bang!

Emma jolted upright, staring around her room, eyes wide with terror.

In her dream, she’d suffered a nightmare—she was back in Emilia Manor, trapped in that cramped room, enduring darkness and fear… and from all sides, shadowy arms reached out…

But soon, she calmed. Her face darkened.

If—just suppose.

If her memories weren’t faulty, she’d gone to the next room last night… and been caught. After a brief exchange, he warned her.

Then… she lost consciousness and woke up in bed? As if she’d slept straight through?

Was it… a witch?

The terror of her imprisonment and torment in Emilia Manor returned.

She clutched the sheets, curled up on the bed, frozen in shock. Her shoulder-length hair stood on end, matching her terrified expression—she looked like a child who’d seen a ghost.

In that moment, she finally realized: she’d made a mistake. She’d invited a monster into her home—one as ruthless as herself, and one who knew her darkest side.

Morning.

Bathed in sunlight, eating breakfast, Emma beamed at Louis. Louis returned the smile, fully aware.

David, watching, was delighted.

Good. So good!

(End of Chapter)