With just a few swipes, the portrait was ripped to shreds.
"How could you have the audacity of hanging a family portrait? I told you, there's no place for you in the Bridgerton Family and I don't want to have a sister like you! In this life, I have one and only one brother, Shawn Bridgerton!"
This long-lost name made me dazed for a moment.
Sheryl, still unsatisfied, angrily yelled at me to get out and fight again. The silent studio received no response. She pulled out a lighter and waved the flame threateningly.
"Sharon, you coward, you dare not take responsibility for your actions. What's the point of hiding? I tell you, I won't stop until I kill you. If you don't come out, I'll burn all the broken paintings in your room!"
As soon as the words left her mouth, a videotape fell out of the secret compartment behind the family portrait.
Suddenly my voice came from the recorder on the other end. "Sheryl, if you dare touch my paintings, I won't let you go, even if I become a ghost!"
Sheryl was stunned for a moment, then crushed my recorder with her foot.
"You think you can scare me with such a little trick, Sharon? You really haven't improved at all!"
But when she looked at the videotape, she hesitated for three seconds before retracting her foot.
"I want to see what other tricks you have."
The screen lit up, revealing my pale face. The moment she saw me, Sheryl frowned in disgust. In the video, I smiled broadly.
"Sheryl, how come you're still alive after all these years? What a shame. But don't get too cocky. I've prepared a great gift for you. Wait until you've finished reading this, then die!"
The scene shifted to the bedroom. I was bending over to sort through the paintings. Beneath my loose nightgown, two bony arms, pockmarked with needle pricks, were visible. I held up the family portrait at the top and held it up to the camera.
This painting depicts our family of four. I held Sheryl's hand, smiling shyly yet happily. The date was July 8, 2013. It was the day before I returned to the Bridgerton Family.
The police had cracked a major case and arrested my adoptive parents. They said the old couple who had been beating and scolding me all day weren't my biological parents. They were the murderers who had taken me away and ruined my life.
The police officer caressed my head with heartache. He pressed a few photos into my hands.
"Don't be afraid. We've found your biological parents. Once the paperwork is completed, they'll take you home."
That night, I was so excited I couldn't sleep. I drew my imaginary family portrait based on the three people in the photo. My gentle mother, my tall father. My sister, who would protect me and grow up with me.
When I actually returned to that home, I found a family portrait there, too. The family photo was exactly as I'd imagined. The only thing was, there was no place for me.
My father looked at me as I awkwardly explained, "After you went missing, your mom was so heartbroken she fell ill. We had no choice but to adopt a boy your age from an orphanage."
My mother also hugged me, crying, "It's okay, Sharon. You and Shawn are both my children. This is God's compensation for me. From now on, we'll be a family, never to be separated again!"
They found a psychologist to help me with counseling. They contacted the best beauty salon to get scar removal surgery.
