Chapter 556

Annabelle Taylor huddled in the corner, her throat parched like scorched earth.

Her trembling fingers groped in the dark until they found the kitchen water jug. Ignoring the floating dust particles, she tilted her head back and gulped down the icy liquid.

Cold droplets traced paths down her chin, staining her grimy collar.

The wild children had stolen the dinner she'd painstakingly prepared. Now they slept soundly in warm beds while she shivered.

Moonlight filtered through the broken window, casting fractured shadows across the floor.

Annabelle bit her lip until she tasted copper, nails digging crescent moons into her palms.

A memory surfaced—the antique telephone in the headmaster's office.

The wooden stairs creaked under her tiptoed steps.

The office door swung open with a whisper.

Her shaking hands lifted the receiver, but froze mid-dial.

Who could she call?

Her fair-weather friends had vanished like morning mist when misfortune struck.

Her father's face flashed before her eyes.

"Dad!" she sobbed the moment the line connected. "I'm at the orphanage—these brats are tormenting me—"

Silence. Then the decisive click of disconnection.

She redialed with frantic fingers. This time, not even a ringtone answered.

The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth as she gnawed her lip raw.

Lydia Laurent's number remained—her final gambit.

"Annabelle?" Lydia's saccharine voice chirped through the receiver.

Annabelle clutched the phone like a lifeline. "Lydia, please help me!"

Her words tumbled out in a hysterical jumble, punctuated by hiccuping sobs.

"But..." Lydia's voice dripped with faux innocence. "Wouldn't Alexander be furious?"

Annabelle stamped her foot. "He won't blame you! Just contact Emily Zade—I'll pay any—"

A giggle.

Sharp as broken glass.

Annabelle's spine turned to ice. "What's so funny?"

"You are." Lydia's tone shifted, honey laced with venom. "Discarded pawns belong in the trash."

The blood drained from Annabelle's face. "You—"

"Playing dumb was exhausting." Lydia's laughter tinkled like wind chimes in a graveyard. "Game over."

The dial tone echoed through the empty office.

Footsteps approached down the hall.

Annabelle fled blindly, collapsing onto her mildew-scented cot.

Something skittered across her hand.

She flung the blanket aside—

A palm-sized spider crouched inches from her fingers in the moonlight.

Her scream shattered the night.

Children's mocking laughter floated through the window.

"Serves her right!"

"Look at her now!"

Annabelle slumped to the floor, watching the arachnid amble away.

Moonbeams illuminated her ghostly pallor.

At last, she understood the meaning of karma.