Betrayed by Blood, Avenged by Talent

It turned out to be the handwritten manuscript I created at the beginning, even the few lines of lyrics that I deleted are exactly the same.

Eugenia burst into tears and talked about the original intention of her creation.

She actually knew exactly what I was thinking and even told me all my creative ideas.

I looked at her in horror, but could only utter a few low hoarse sounds.

How could she know so much? Impossible!

But no one gave me any more chances and the reporters urged me to produce evidence.

I flipped through my phone desperately, only to find that all the drafts of my creations that were originally stored in it were gone.

In despair, my parents and brother waved away the reporters.

My mother hugged me and cried, “Are all the bodyguards you stationed at the door dead?! Don’t let them in like this!”

“Janette, I'm sorry. It's all our fault for not keeping a close eye on them and letting them in. We will immediately ask Deon to block the news they got.

“It doesn’t matter who wrote this song; you’re still our good daughter.”

Despair and bitterness twisted in my chest.

Really? Then why did you destroy me for Eugenia?

Why did you let me be tormented and my reputation shattered?

But after achieving their goal, they still acted out these hypocritical family ties. Wasn't it disgusting?

A feeling of distress surged in my chest and I spat out a mouthful of blood.

“Janette!”

“Sister!”

Before everything was completely dark, I heard my parents and brother calling for a doctor in panic.

“Even if her vocal cords are replaced, speaking will be a struggle and singing is out of the question. The injuries to her fingers and legs have been left untreated for too long—I fear there will be lasting aftereffects.”

My parents roared angrily, “No matter how much it costs, you must do your best to cure her.”

My brother also shouted, “Yes, treat her according to the standards you said before, doc.”

He hugged me tightly and the warmth from his chest made me shiver all over.

Was the standard he mentioned before to replace my vocal cords with a dog's, so that I could never play the piano again or stand up?

I wanted to laugh, but I passed out anyway.

When I woke up again, it was already the day of the award ceremony.

My fingers and lower limbs were bandaged and my throat was wrapped in gauze.

My mother squeezed my palms tightly, her eyes blurred with tears as she asked, “Janette, are you awake? The doctor said you will get better soon, don't be afraid.”

The phone next to her was broadcasting the live video of the award ceremony.

In the picture, Eugenia, dressed in gorgeous clothes, was holding my father and brother's hands, with a sweet smile.

Seeing my depressed expression, my mother quickly turned off her phone and wiped away my tears as she asked, “Are you hungry? The doctor said you can only eat liquid food these days. Should I buy you some porridge?”

I nodded and after she left, I opened my phone to watch the live broadcast.

In the picture, facing various questions from reporters, my father and brother firmly defended Eugenia and protected her behind them.