CHAPTER 43 - HARRIET’S FAMILY"This cane is my father's," Liam said suddenly.
Heath, who was sitting by his side on the sidelines of the training field looked at him with raised eyebrows.
"Grandpa Ray is a pure-blood Lycan. My grandmother, Grandpa's mate is a Half-Elf. They gave birth to my father. But unexpectedly, my father was born more like a normal human," Liam said quietly.
"He's an Alpha, but he's much weaker than you," Liam continued, looking at his brother-in-law.
Heath furrowed his brows deeply.
"What are you trying to tell me by sharing all this?" asked the young man.
Liam shrugged his shoulders.
"I just want to say, I grew up in a good environment," said Liam. "Both my parents and my family were quite normal and they loved me, raising me with all the kindness they could give me in this world. Especially my father. He… was not a monster like my grandfather and me."
Heath was getting more and more clueless.
"I understand what love and family are. I understand what it means when someone lives for someone else, and I respect that," Liam explained. "Especially after what I witnessed from your sister. She… from the first time I saw her, is an amazing woman."
Liam vividly remembered Harriet crossing a fast-flowing river to chase after her brother who had turned into a monster.
"Now that I've become weaker than a mere mortal with my dying condition, I can become a normal match for your sister. No, I promise I can be the most perfect match for your sister."
Heath lowered his eyelids and stared at the ground.
"Perfect… huh?"
***
Harriet grew up in an unusual family.
The word 'unusual' was sugarcoated because the reality was far more gruesome than what everyone saw.
"AAAAHH!"
Stitch!
"HNGGAAH!"
Snaps!
"AAAH!"
A pair of pliers that were stained with blood was placed on the table after it was finished serving its use.
An old woman knelt on the ground, held by two grown men who turned their faces away, unable to watch what was happening.
A young woman with long black hair let go of the hand of the old woman who was kneeling in front of her. The old woman's hands were covered in blood, with ten nails falling off and lying on the floor.
The young woman with long black hair looked coldly at the old woman who was crying and wailing in pain, seeing the tips of her fingers. It was because she had just plucked ten of her maid's fingernails with the pliers on the table.
Then, with a gentle smile, the young woman turned to a little girl who was standing by her side with a face covered in tears, sobbing silently. The young woman patted the little girl's head calmly and warmly.
"Listen to Mother more carefully now, will you, Harriet," said the beautiful young woman. "Don't bite your nails. That's a bad habit. You can't copy other people's bad habits, understand?"
The little girl raised her shocked and trembling little face at her mother.
"Yes, Mother."
The little girl's voice was shaking badly, and her whole face was pale. Her lavender eyes faltered as she stared at the blood continuously dripping onto the floor from the ten fingers of her nanny, who raised her hands like she was praying.
Screams and wails of pain filled the room, but the black-haired young woman, the little girl's mother, was not bothered by that. She was actually happy if the scream sounded even more heartbreaking to scare and teach the little girl a lesson.
Warmly and gently, the black-haired young woman cupped the little girl's cheeks with both hands. "Harriet, you must grow up to be a perfect woman."
Harriet's lavender eyes stared straight into her mother's lavender eyes.
"See, I didn't punish you, even though it was you who was wrong. Why? Because I don't want to spoil the beauty of your hands, or any of your body. So, my dear, my beautiful and shining daughter, don't spoil your own beauty, okay?"
Harriet's mother let go of Harriet's face and lifted the little girl's hands gently. She looked intently at the tip of Harriet's thumb, whose fingernails were torn from the little girl's frequent bites.
"If I see your beautiful nails like this again, you know what I will do, right?"
Harriet blinked and nodded once in fear.
"Forgive me, Mother. I won't do it again," she said softly and shakily, with the remnants of a sob that still hadn't gone away.
Harriet's mother smiled coldly.
"And what did I say about crying?" she asked.
Harriet frantically wiped away her own tears and breathed recklessly. "Crying is bad."
The black-haired young woman nodded in satisfaction.
"Clever girl."
***
Click-
Click-
Click-
"Why do you always keep your nails short, Sister?" asked little Heath as Harriet trimmed his toenails with the nail clipper neatly and carefully.
Harriet smiled. The little girl stroked Heath's head affectionately. "That's because dirt can get in between your nails and make you sick," she replied calmly.
"Is that true?" Heath asked.
Heath saw that the fingertips of his maid's hand were neatly bandaged and bleeding a little.
***
"At that time, I was still a child. I didn't know that my maid was punished by our mother, by pulling out her fingernails. It was when our mother saw that my nails were dirty after I played on the ground," said Heath.
Heath recounted further that Harriet watched every maid in the house get punished when there was something her mother didn't like.
Just then, his dirty nails caught his mother's attention, and their maid became the victim. And ever since then, Harriet had been keeping an eye on Heath's entire body and making sure everything was perfect before they met their mother.
"My sister's nanny has also experienced the same punishment," said Heath.
Harriet started biting her nails because of the anxiety that built up, and their mother assumed that the bad habit came after Harriet imitated it from her Nanny. So it was the Nanny who was punished, with Harriet watching.
Heath never received such treatment from his mother until he was a teenager, all because Harriet always protected and fortified his little mind from the violence their mother displayed.
All at the expense of her own mental state.
"I've always wondered if I wasn't born as Harriet's younger brother… how would I grow up?"
Heath and Liam sat on the sidelines of the training field as the moon began to appear.
"I believe if my sister didn't acknowledge me as her own, I wouldn't have survived and become the good person I am today," continued Heath.
The night breeze blew gently, and Heath wasn't interested in Liam's reaction to his story.
"My sister is that type of person. She could sacrifice everything, especially herself, to keep our happiness and save the most important person by her side," said Heath. "And when I saw the way my sister looked at you last night, I became even more convinced that I couldn't leave you two together."
Liam was silent. No one knew what was on his mind.
"What my sister needs is a normal person who can love her and someone she depended on, not someone who will make her suffer for the rest of her life."
Heath looked at Liam firmly and said with the most serious tone. "Don't… give her more suffering than this. I beg you."
Liam took a deep breath. The man could feel how bitter the end of his throat was at this moment. Hearing Heath's story made him hard to breathe.
"But I think I'm too late," Heath said quietly. "You are right. You have already become the same existence as me in my sister's life."
Heath stood up and prepared to walk away.
"Remember that I'm telling you all this because I know you love her too, so you will suffer knowing what my sister has gone through. Including the suffering you will add to her already painful life."