"It's very cold outside. Could you let me in?"
The servant hesitated, the words caught in their throat. "Sorry, Madam, Miss Sandoval said you cannot enter. She also said you can’t leave before they wake up. Otherwise... your brother..."
"I understand."
Dorothy crouched down, her body curling instinctively as if to protect herself from the biting cold.
Evansville's winter had never been this cruel. Despite her thick clothing, the sub-zero temperatures seeped into her bones, turning her body to stone. Her hands shook relentlessly, unable to find warmth.
The wind sliced through her like a thousand tiny blades. Dorothy struggled to breathe, her throat tight as her tears froze into small, painful beads against her skin.
The door swung open just as the cold began to steal her consciousness. Kyrie's voice rang out above her, sharp and accusatory. "Dorothy, who are you trying to fool this time?"
Before she could answer, he hauled her to her feet. "What, you’re out here freezing just to make me pity you?"
Her teeth clattered, her lips pale, but she managed to speak. "It’s Portia. She won’t let me in."
"What nonsense are you talking about? Am I really that cruel?" Portia emerged from the room, her eyes sharp.
She latched onto Kyrie’s arm, her lips pouting in feigned innocence. "Kyrie, look at her. She’ll say anything just to make you feel sorry for her!"
Kyrie sneered. "You think she’s trying to trick me? Who do you think you are?"
Dorothy quickly pointed toward the servant standing nearby. "Ask her."
The servant lowered her gaze, speaking softly. "Miss Sandoval didn’t give any instructions."
"You..."
Dorothy’s words were cut short as if struck by a bolt of lightning. Before she could even react, Kyrie slammed her to the ground.
"Since you enjoy tormenting yourself so much, clean up the garden and pull every weed! Otherwise, you and your brother can forget about everything going well for you!"
The words drained all the fight from Dorothy, leaving her hollow. Her eyes reddened with unshed tears, but she remained silent. Slowly, she rose to her feet and staggered toward the garden, the weight of her defeat heavy with each step.
The garden had been neglected for days and wild grass had crept into every crack in the walls as though it had been left there just for Dorothy. She had only managed to pull a few weeds when blisters began to form on her hands, a combination of itching and sharp pain.
"How pitiful."
Portia’s voice cut through the air, dripping with mockery.
Dorothy clenched her fists, determined not to respond. But before she could continue, a cold stream of water cascaded over her, soaking her to the bone.
Dorothy gasped in shock, scrambling to her feet, only to find Portia grinning wickedly, holding the hose like a weapon.
"Portia, are you done yet?"
Dorothy’s body trembled with rage, the biting cold wind cutting at her skin like a thousand knives.
Portia giggled. "Seeing you like this makes me so happy."
Dorothy stared at her, her heart hardening with each mocking word. Suddenly, a strange calm settled over her. She clenched her fists. "Portia, you're the same as the one who took over my body, aren’t you?"
Portia froze, just for a moment. Then she twirled her hair, a deeper smile spreading across her face. "Looks like you're not as stupid as I thought. Yes, I’m the one who took over your body."
Dorothy’s eyes widened, her fists tightening so hard that her knuckles turned white. "Why? Why are you doing this?"
Portia studied her with interest, a smile playing on her lips. "Let me tell you something. At first, my target wasn’t Kyrie. It was your brother, Ivan. But he was so stubborn, wouldn’t listen to me and all he cared about was you, his precious sister."
Ivan...
Dorothy’s throat tightened, her breath hitching.
"According to the story, he only had three years left to live. I couldn’t tie myself to someone with such a short life. So, I used a tool to take over my body and shift my focus. As for Kyrie... well, the tool I used helped me win his favor as well."
