Chapter 1 Going Home

Roxden Outskirts Prison. Today was the day Quinn Fairchild was released. She took off her prison uniform and changed into the clothes she had worn three years ago. The short-sleeved dress had been sitting for too long. The fabric was faded, wrinkled down the center, and no longer fit quite right—loose and shapeless on her body. A staff member returned her personal belongings. "Your family’s been waiting outside for a while now. Go out and do something with your life—don’t come back." Family? Quinn blinked slowly and let out a laugh full of scorn. She had been found by the Fairchild family when she was twelve. They told her she was the youngest daughter they had lost years ago, and they had come to bring her home. They couldn’t bear to give up their adopted daughter, Olive Fairchild, so they kept both girls in the house. Quinn didn’t mind. She’d grown up alone in an orphanage. Having a family was something she had dreamed of. She was thrilled—more than thrilled—to finally have someone. Gaining a sister? That was just a bonus. Until she turned eighteen. Olive hit someone with her car and killed them. The Fairchild family sent Quinn to prison in her place. They said, "This only happened because you insisted we attend your graduation instead of Olive’s recital. She was distracted while driving—that’s why this happened. You’ll have to take responsibility for her." Before she could say no, they had already prepared everything. The sentence. The paperwork. The press. They shipped her off. What family did she have? Quinn muttered a thank you, took her things, and slowly walked out of the prison. The towering gate creaked open. Sunlight spilled through and stung her eyes. She squinted, the figures in the distance blurring. It was late fall. The man standing not far ahead was dressed in a long black coat, in stark contrast to her thin summer dress—as if they belonged to different worlds. It was Xavier Fairchild. Her biological brother. He was the one who had picked her up the day she came home to the Fairchild family. He had held her and promised that from now on, she would be the family’s one and only princess. Years later, to protect Olive, he was the one who pressed her hand down and forced her fingerprint onto the confession. When he saw her standing still, Xavier strode over and reached for her bag without a word. "Come on. Let’s go home." Quinn gave a bitter smile. When she first arrived in prison, she used to dream every day that someone would come to take her back. But when she was beaten so badly and coughed up blood, when she was left starving and crawling across the floor, when she was locked in a freezing bathroom all night with no light and no warmth—no one from the Fairchild family ever came to see her. She had finally accepted the truth. The daughter they loved was Olive. Always had been. So the words “go home” didn’t mean much anymore. Without looking at him, Quinn quietly pulled her bag away and said, "It’s fine. I can carry it." Xavier’s hand hung in the air for a second, awkwardly suspended. In his memory, Quinn had always been easy to please. Give her a little attention, and she’d forget everything and follow him around like a shadow. He had pictured her crying with gratitude when she saw him. Instead, she was cold. Distant. His chest tightened. Then again, they had left her in prison for three years. Maybe she was allowed to be upset. She was still his sister. Trying to stay calm, Xavier explained, "Olive developed depression after the accident. Her emotions were unstable. We had to take turns staying with her so she wouldn’t do anything... stupid. That’s why we couldn’t visit you." As if just remembering, he added, "By the way, you’re not going to stay in the main house for now. You’ll stay in Julie’s room for a while. Olive’s still not in a good place, and seeing you might... trigger her." The words couldn’t have been more ironic. Olive killed someone. Yet somehow, she was the innocent one. The whole family had catered to her day and night. They were so busy taking care of her that they forgot their real daughter was rotting in a cell. Now that Quinn was finally out, they were afraid her presence might upset Olive. She didn’t want this home anymore. She was only going back to see one person, Norman Fairchild—her grandfather. He was the only one who cared about her. Even after Olive came back, he was the only one who treated her like he always had. When they dragged her away that day, Norman had fought to protect her. He’d collapsed from anger and passed out. After that, no one told her anything about him. Now that she was out, all she wanted was to see for herself whether he was still alive. Where they wanted her to stay didn’t matter anymore. A gust of wind swept past. Quinn rubbed her arms and murmured, "Whatever you think is best." Aside from that one brief glance when they first locked eyes, she didn’t look at Xavier again. But Xavier suddenly remembered the day he picked her up when she was twelve. She’d wrapped her arms around his neck and asked timidly, "Xavier... do I get my own room?" What had he said? He told her, "Our little princess gets the biggest, prettiest room in the house." Later, that room went to Olive. Quinn had cried and thrown tantrums for days. But now, it was like she didn’t care anymore. His chest filled with a heavy, suffocating weight. He frowned. "If you’re upset, just say so. I’ve got other properties. If you don’t want to stay at the estate, I can put you up somewhere else." Quinn shook her head. "No need to go through the trouble." She’d been beaten into submission in prison. That instinct to bow her head only made Xavier angrier. To him, her tone sounded passive-aggressive—like she was picking a fight. He felt like something was pressing down on his chest. "You... You were in prison for three years. You weren’t starving. You weren’t tortured. Olive nearly died more than once. If you’re gonna blame someone, blame yourself for dragging us to your graduation and making Olive miss her concert. She wouldn’t have been distracted if not for you. This all happened because of you. And she didn’t complain once. So what are you acting all righteous for?" He kept going. "We spoiled you too much. That’s why you’ve got this attitude. Have you forgotten what your life was like in that orphanage? Did the Fairchild family ever treat you badly? You were living in luxury and didn’t even appreciate it. You think I wanted to come pick you up? If not for the Grant family engagement, you think I’d be here? You’re so noble, so well-mannered—why don’t you figure out your own way back?" With that, he slammed the car door shut, didn’t look at her again, and drove off. Quinn hadn’t expected anyone to come pick her up. The Fairchild family’s attitude didn’t surprise her either. She’d learned not to take it personally. What did sting was the reason Xavier had shown up at all. She thought maybe he came out of obligation, out of blood ties. But no. It was to make sure she canceled the engagement with the Grant family. The engagement had been arranged by Norman Fairchild and Leroy Grant. Originally, it was meant for Olive. But after Quinn came back, Norman insisted it be given to her instead. Because of that, everyone hated her for “stealing” Olive’s future. Even Zayden Grant, the heir himself, despised her. He thought she deliberately came between him and Olive. He loathed her. Now, she was a former convict with a criminal record. Zayden had inherited the Grant family and become its new head. To someone like her, he might as well be the moon behind the mountains. This engagement... did need to end. She told herself there was no reason to feel anything about it. She gripped the strap of her bag tighter. Inside was a dead phone and a few coins. She couldn’t bring herself to waste them on a ride. Xavier said she should figure it out on her own. So that meant walking. When she reached the foot of the mountain, she realized Roxden was no longer the place she remembered. She didn’t know which way led to the Fairchild estate. She tried asking someone for directions, but one glance at her clothes was enough. Everyone recognized the uniform—someone freshly released from prison. People looked at her like she was contagious. They couldn’t back away fast enough. Feeling lost, Quinn picked a direction at random and started walking. Just then, a black sedan slowly pulled up beside her. A cool voice called out from the window. "Ms. Fairchild."