Her crown

"Noelle, get down on your knees and say sorry to Willa right now!"

A man's voice rang out, sharp and cold, resounding across the spacious living room.

Noelle Moss stood frozen in the center of the room, her long lashes lowered as she tightened her grip on the voice recorder tucked inside her pocket. Her eyes slowly lifted toward the man on the sofa—her third brother, Gerard Moss.

Next to him sat Willa Moss, the adopted daughter of the Moss family. She wasn't even related to them by blood.

Yet she was being told by her own elder brother to kneel down and apologize to Willa.

"You shoved Willa down the stairs on purpose. How could you be so cruel? You're utterly disgusting! I refuse to acknowledge someone like you as my sister!" Gerard snapped.

Utterly disgusting?

Noelle's lashes quivered faintly as she fought to hold back the tight, aching pressure in her chest. "I didn't—"

Before she could finish, Gerard grabbed a glass from the table and threw it hard at her. "How dare you talk back!"

The glass hit her foot and then crashed on the floor, shattering into countless fragments.

Noelle's delicate foot instantly turned red and began to swell.

Thin slivers of glass shards cut across her smooth leg, drawing fresh, bright red blood.

But Noelle didn't flinch. She just stood there as though none of it hurt.

This wasn't the first time Gerard had shouted at her like this—or hurt her.

"Gerard, please… Don't be so harsh on Noelle," Willa said quickly, her voice light and gentle. "She didn't push me on purpose. It wasn't her fault. It was just an accident. Really—it was my own fault."

Gerard's heart melted suddenly at her words. "Why are you still defending her, Willa? Have you thought about what would have happened if you ended up with a scar? You're a girl. That's not something to take lightly!"

"But Gerard…"

"That's enough. Stop defending her. Come closer—let me see if you're hurt."

"I'm fine, Gerard. It's nothing…"

Seeing them play out their familial roles, Noelle felt a deep, draining weariness settle over her.

Gerard was so worried about whether Willa might mar her look. But moments ago, he had hurled a glass at her with no hesitation, leaving her leg bleeding. Did he think she couldn't be scarred? Didn't it matter that she—his own sister by blood—might also be concerned about her looks?

Noelle had learned to survive on her own from a young age, growing up in an orphanage with no one to rely on. Later on, an elderly couple, Jeffery and Babette Hobbes, took her in and raised her with warmth and care. Under their care, she'd never been mistreated, never made to feel like a burden.

After fussing over Willa, Gerard turned and caught sight of the faint, mocking smile on Noelle's beautiful face. He almost went wild with irritation. "What are you smirking at? Noelle, we made it clear when we brought you back two years ago—Willa was raised in this house. Even if you're not related by blood, you're expected to treat her like your own sister. You, as the older one, are supposed to protect her—spoil her! But what have you done since you returned?"

Noelle smiled bitterly. Her lips, soft and rose-colored, trembled slightly.

Two years ago, when the Moss family came looking for her and claimed her as one of their own, she thought she'd finally found her people. Jeffery and Babette had already passed away, and with no one left, she clung to the idea of reuniting with her family. She even turned down a generous offer to live with him from Levi Martin, Jeffery's old friend—just so she could live with the Mosses.

For two years, she'd done everything she could to fit in. She'd put up with more than anyone should have, always backing down.

She always gave Willa the nicest things. Only accepting what Willa rejected. She lived like a shadow behind her, never asking for more.

She truly believed that if she kept being patient and kind, the family would slowly start to accept her. That maybe her parents and five brothers would see her as part of them.

But all she got in return was their endless praise for Willa and constant blame thrown at her. Every mistake was always her fault.