Lucien stepped forward, placing himself between us without a word. His presence was calm, but there was a sharp chill in the air, as if his silence itself was a warning.
I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath.
"I asked to follow you because I was not safe there," I muttered.
"Seeing the way this guy is acting with you..." Lucien paused as he sized up Asher. "You’re not safe at the place he’s taking you either."
"I know." I met Asher’s eyes. "But no matter what, he is my family. That’s where I belong."
"Hah!" Asher scoffed. He kept mocking me at every word, like I was telling a joke.
"Then why come back to us if you weren’t safe? We gave you food, a roof, education—do you think the orphanage could’ve offered you a life like that?"
"Young Master Lan is right," I said coldly. "But anyone could give me those things—and not throw me in jail just because some random people said a word or two against me." I turned and walked away.
I didn’t know what came over me. I had no proof—nothing that could clear my name—but since Asher was so keen to take me to the police station, I was ready.
"To think he actually cared, even for a moment... I almost thought I wasn’t reborn." I muttered and walked out of the house.
Asher followed behind me and asked me to sit in the car as he took the driver’s seat.
I didn’t bother to talk to him. Not a single word passed between us.
The ride to the police station was quiet. Cold.
Even the hum of the engine felt louder than him.
When the car finally came to a halt, I didn’t move at first. My hand rested on the door handle, but I stayed still.
"I... I thought you would protect me since you are my brother," I said in a low voice. "But here I am. I have a whole family, but I am still an orphan."
I didn’t wait for him to say anything. There was nothing left to hear.
I stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind me, quiet, but certain.
Asher just sat there, frozen. Staring like he didn’t recognize me anymore.
Maybe I didn’t recognize him either.
"How dare you show your face here after hurting my brother!"
Melissa lunged at me the moment she saw me, but I sidestepped her without effort.
"Refrain yourself. This is a police station," I said coldly, my eyes shifting to Asher, who stood behind me.
"Kindly take care of your beloved little sister."
With that, I turned and walked into the station, unbothered.
I stepped through the station doors, the cold air inside doing little to numb the heat crawling beneath my skin.
The officer at the desk glanced up, eyes narrowing as they landed on my torn clothes, the dried blood on my hands, and the calm in my posture.
"I’m here to report an incident," I said in a steady voice. "There was a stabbing."
He sat up straighter. "You’re the one involved?"
Before I could answer, the door swung open behind me.
Melissa’s shrill voice cut through the air. "She stabbed him! In the ambulance, like a psychopath!"
Jim followed close behind, walking with a slight limp, his thigh wrapped in a fresh dressing. Still, he wore a smug, wounded expression like he was the one wronged.
"She attacked me out of nowhere," he said, gesturing to his leg. "We were just trying to help her. She lost it."
I didn’t even look at them.
"You touched me when I told you not to," I said quietly. "You climbed into my space and grabbed me while I was strapped down." I said and stretched my hand for them to see the rope burns on my wrist.
Jim scoffed. "That’s not what happened—"
"There are medics who saw it," I cut him off, finally turning toward the officer. "And there are cameras in the ambulance. Go ahead. Check."
The room fell into a brief silence.
Melissa bristled beside him. "She’s lying. She’s mentally unstable!"
I turned to her next. "Then maybe next time, keep your hands and your lapdogs away from unstable people."
Asher stood in the doorway, saying nothing.
The officer looked at me for a long moment, then gestured for me to follow. "Let’s take your statement."
I walked forward without hesitation. I didn’t need to scream to be believed.
I just needed the truth. And this time, it wasn’t going to be buried under their lies.
The policeman took my statement and told me to appear whenever I was needed.
But who was he to order me around when I had done nothing?
"Mr. Policeman," I said coldly, holding back the heat in my throat. "I’m just a girl who was harassed—yet you make me relive every damn second of that horrifying moment instead of questioning him first? And now you want me to show up here whenever it’s convenient for you?"