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3 | Special Chapter 1

Dessabeth's childhood

The wind howled as the cold bit through the air, swirling around the little girl as she held tightly to her father’s hand. Her cinnamon blonde hair flowed beneath a black headband, and her small figure was wrapped in a warm brown dress. In her arms, she clutched a soft, worn-out teddy bear. This was Dessabeth Anderson.

She felt small, not just in size but in spirit. The sadness in her big, innocent eyes was palpable as she walked down the pathway scattered with red, dried leaves. The mansion loomed ahead—huge, unfamiliar, and intimidating.

As they entered, the warmth inside couldn’t melt away her confusion or fear. A kind face greeted her first. Grace, the housekeeper, smiled warmly. The little girl offered a shy, tentative smile back, though it felt more like a reflex than genuine joy.

But then, a stern voice interrupted the moment. “Welcome, Dessabeth Anderson,” said an older woman, standing from the sofa. Her expression was rigid, unwelcoming. It was Robert’s mother—her grandmother, though Dessabeth wasn’t sure if she could call her that. There was no warmth there, but Dessabeth smiled out of politeness. It’s what she had been taught to do.

Another voice followed, lighter but still foreign. “Hello, Dessabeth,” said Jennifer, her stepmother. She was smiling, but Dessabeth couldn’t bring herself to smile back this time. She simply stood, unsure, feeling like a stranger in this grand house filled with people who seemed to know her, though she knew none of them.

Then a little girl stepped forward, her eyes filled with curiosity. “Are you my sister?” she asked. Dessabeth hesitated before answering. “Dad said we’re half-sisters.”

The little girl’s face lit up in a bright smile as she wrapped her arms around Dessabeth, hugging her tightly. It felt nice for a second, the warmth of another child’s embrace, but it also felt strange. Too soon.

Hours passed, and Dessabeth was shown to her own room—a room bigger than any space she had ever known. It was nothing like the orphanage she’d come from. The bed was soft, the walls were painted in light colors, and everything smelled clean and new. But it didn’t feel like home. How could it?

Sitting in the corner of the bed, she hugged her teddy bear tighter, fighting the tears that burned behind her eyes. She didn’t understand any of this—why she was suddenly taken from the orphanage, why this man had shown up claiming to be her biological father, why they had brought her to this enormous mansion where everything felt so unfamiliar.

It was hard to trust. After all, they could be lying. How was she to know?

And then there was the thought she couldn’t push away—the one that gnawed at her heart the most. Her biological mother was dead. Gone. And she would never, ever get the chance to meet her. No matter how many mansions she was brought to, or how many people smiled at her, that emptiness wouldn’t go away.

Dessabeth felt alone in the middle of all this grandeur. And more than anything, she just wanted to understand why her life had turned upside down.

A few days had passed, and though Dessabeth was beginning to feel slightly more comfortable, the mansion still felt foreign. It was grand, full of people, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was a guest in someone else’s home.

She was in the living room, playing with her half-sister Rachel, when Rachel suddenly reached for the silver locket hanging around Dessabeth’s neck.

“I like it! Can you give it to me?” Rachel pleaded, her little eyes full of hope.