Chapter 2 So Many Years, and She Still Can’t Find Her Way Home

Quinn turned her head just as the window beside her rolled down. The man inside took off his sunglasses, revealing sharp features and thin lips pressed together in irritation. "The Fairchild estate isn’t this way. What, after all these years, you really can’t remember where home is?" It was Zayden—the fiancé she was about to break things off with. If it were before, she would’ve run to him, grinning as she called his name. But now, she didn’t dare. He wore a crisp, expensive suit, sitting in a luxury car that practically screamed money. Every detail reminded Quinn how pitifully far she’d fallen. She instinctively took a step back and gave a polite nod. "Thank you for the reminder, sir." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and started walking in the opposite direction. Sir. Not even a last name. Not even "Mr. Grant." Zayden watched her frail figure retreat, and his eyes darkened. "This isn’t the Roxden you remember. Walking around blind like that—are you serious? Planning to just wander your way back?" Three years in prison had cut Quinn off from the outside world. Now, she looked as lost and timid as the day she’d first arrived from the orphanage. Every word from Zayden hit where it hurt most. He didn’t bother to hide his disdain. But after what she’d been through, Quinn barely felt it. She’d heard far worse in prison. When she kept walking without saying a word, Zayden finally lost what little patience he had left. He got out of the car, grabbed her arm, and snapped, "Get in. Your family sent me. Stop wasting time." Quinn thought back to Xavier storming off earlier. It wasn’t hard to guess what this was really about. He was here to make sure she formally ended the engagement. It made sense. He’d never even liked looking at her—of course, he wasn’t here by choice. He must’ve been desperate to get rid of her. Dragging it out would only make her look clingy and pathetic. After a brief pause, Quinn silently followed him into the car. The backseat wasn’t large. She pressed herself to the door, trying to make herself as small as possible. But the scent of his cologne—fresh pine—still filled the space. His presence was inescapable. She forced herself to look out the window, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Three years had changed him. Gone was the carefree, smirking boy she remembered. Now, he was calm, controlled, and radiating the quiet authority of someone used to being in charge. He hadn’t always been like that. Back then, he used to tease her constantly. In the Fairchild household, everyone had always revolved around Olive. Everything Quinn did felt like a mistake. It was like a wire was always pulled tight in her head, reminding her not to mess up. But when she was with Zayden, it was different. She could laugh. She could make mistakes. He never minded. He just made sure she had enough to eat, never once caring about how she looked while doing it. He’d worry if she was tired, never scold her for how she sat. For a while, Quinn thought he actually liked her. Then she overheard him talking to others about the engagement. He had laughed it off and said, "Come on, I’m only being nice so she’ll break it off herself. She grew up in an orphanage—bad habits and no manners. Doesn’t have an ounce of what a proper Fairchild daughter should look like. I wouldn’t even want her as a sister, let alone a wife." Someone asked, "So what would your ideal fiancée look like?" After a long pause, he said, "At the very least, someone like Olive. Someone presentable." "If they hadn’t gotten swapped, Olive would’ve been your fiancée anyway. You’ve been protecting her since you were a kid." Thinking back, he really had treated Olive differently. He never flirted with her, never joked too far. He respected her. Treated her like a real partner. With Quinn, even saying her name seemed to disgust him. When she realized Zayden didn’t care about her, she was crushed—for one night. Then she let go. She went to Norman and asked to call off the engagement. He agreed. But before anything could be made official, she was sent to prison. What had she done wrong? She was the real Fairchild daughter. She’d survived twelve years in an orphanage. She thought she’d finally found a home—but everyone in it treated her like an outsider. She thought Zayden was different. So she gave him everything. Treated him like the husband she believed he’d become. Even now, when she remembered what he said back then, it still felt like a knife twisting in her chest. But she told herself it was over. The prison had taught her one thing. If something doesn’t belong to you, holding on only hurts more. It’s better to let go. She didn’t want the Fairchild family anymore. She didn’t want Zayden either. The drive was short—less than thirty minutes later, they arrived at the estate. Quinn had just stepped out when a soft, delicate voice called out, "Quinn, you’re finally back." It was Olive. Her skin glowed. Her cheeks were rosy. She wore a thick, high-end white velvet dress that screamed pampered heiress. Quinn, in her faded sleeveless dress, looked more like a housemaid. Olive rushed over as if to take her hand—but the moment she saw Zayden stepping out behind her, she paused. "Zayden? What are you doing here...?" Xavier arrived seconds later, quickly moving to support Olive. He draped his coat over her shoulders and shot a cold glance at both Quinn and Zayden. "You just got out of prison. Why were you with him?" Quinn lowered her eyes. "He said the Fairchild family asked him to pick me up. For the engagement." Zayden gave her a sideways glance, tone indifferent. "Yeah. My grandfather’s idea." Both Norman and Leroy had always liked Quinn. It was only because of them that the engagement had lasted through her years in prison. But now that Leroy had given in—did that mean he finally saw Quinn as unworthy of the Grant family? Olive bit her lip, stealing shy glances at Zayden. No matter what she did, no matter how close she got to him over the years—she’d never replaced Quinn in the hearts of the two grandfathers. But now? With Quinn out and Leroy backing down? It had to mean her own engagement to Zayden was near. She lit up with joy. "Zayden, thank you for bringing Quinn back. I was so worried something might’ve happened to her on the way home. Thank goodness you were there." Quinn said nothing. She just listened, the corner of her mouth twitching in silent mockery. If Zayden hadn’t picked her up, she probably wouldn’t have found her way back before dark. So what exactly had they all been waiting for? She used to wonder why no one loved her, even though she was the real Fairchild daughter. Why everyone doted on Olive instead. After three years inside, she understood. Some people just knew how to talk. And the rest of the world always fell for it. That was why she had lost. Zayden smiled and teased, "Still the most thoughtful one here. I’m going to check on Norman." Olive’s eyes lit up. She forgot all about Quinn and quickly clung to his arm. "I’ll go with you." Zayden didn’t push her away. Quinn watched them from the corner of her eye. She didn’t envy their feelings. She envied that they could see her grandfather openly. She didn’t even dare ask. She was afraid to hear something bad. Afraid Xavier would say no. But then Zayden turned around and looked at her. "What are you standing there for? Aren’t you coming?" Quinn blinked in surprise. For a split second, her eyes lit up. It was the first time since her release that Zayden didn’t completely disgust her. She took a step forward—only to be yanked back by Xavier. "You’re not going anywhere. What, you’re planning to see Grandpa dressed like that? Trying to make him feel sorry for you? Tell him we abused you?" She was still in that old, sleeveless dress, thin enough to look like a piece of paper. Quinn wanted to see Norman more than anything—but she didn’t want to make a scene over something as stupid as an outfit. Her eyes turned red with frustration. She finally looked up and pleaded, "I... I don’t have anything else to wear."