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“Very well. Let’s take this to your father’s room then.”
Serena swallowed hard. She realized that she still feared him. For all the times he had degraded her about ruining the family reputation, when he strongly and constantly opposed her career in arts, making sure no art institute would accept her. It made her depressed just by thinking how he was forcing her to forego the only thing she loved... and when he had burnt her paintings... it had been the last straw.
She still recalled the warmth of his blood trickling down her fingers, down her scraper tool as she had stabbed him... and strangely, she had not regretted it. Not a bit.
Reluctantly, she followed her mother and her siblings, her fear intensifying at every step she took in that direction. She timidly
