Chapter 2 Nothing Left

Walking away from the Davison Mansion, Alice felt as though every step she took was dragging her deeper into a reality she had spent her entire life refusing to acknowledge, it appeared like the ground itself resented her presence and was determined to remind her with each heavy movement that she no longer belonged anywhere at all.

The cold wind brushed harshly against her damp skin while the dim streetlights stretched long, distorted shadows across the empty road ahead, yet none of it felt real enough to pull her out of the storm raging violently inside her mind.

Instead, memories began surfacing one after another without mercy, fragments of her childhood drifting through her thoughts like wounds reopening in slow motion, and despite the tears still burning her eyes, a bitter, almost disbelieving smile formed across her lips, everything she had once accepted without question finally revealed itself in its true and unbearable form.

She had never been taken to toy stores or amusement parks the way other children were, those experiences belonging exclusively to Linda while she remained behind like something forgotten or unnecessary. Birthday celebrations had belonged to Linda, attention had belonged to Linda, affection had belonged to Linda, and love, if it had ever existed within that house, had always been reserved for only Linda.

Alice had simply existed somewhere in the background like an afterthought no one ever truly intended to acknowledge.

Whenever new toys entered the house, they were always bought for Linda first, while Alice received whatever remained after excitement had faded, broken dolls missing limbs, stuffed animals with torn seams, and clothes Linda had discarded because they no longer suited her. Even then, Linda would look at her wearing them with open ridicule, as if Alice herself was nothing for existing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

At the time, Alice had convinced herself it was normal, that perhaps this was simply how families worked when one child was more important than another, and she had even forced herself to believe that Linda’s status as the elder sister justified the difference in treatment. But now, walking alone beneath the indifferent midnight sky, the truth pressed itself against her consciousness with unbearable clarity until there was no space left for denial.

She had never truly belonged in that family at all. She had merely been tolerated, like someone inconvenient that could not be removed but also did not deserve acknowledgment, a mistake forced into their home that everyone silently agreed to ignore.

The realization settled heavily inside her chest while she continued walking through the silent streets, each step feeling more hollow than the last as though she were gradually disappearing from a world that had never truly seen her in the first place.

Even when she became sick as a child, nobody had cared for her in any meaningful way, no soft hands ever checking her temperature in the middle of the night, no warm soup ever brought to her bedside, no gentle voice ever assuring her that she would recover soon. Despite the enormous wealth surrounding the Davison household, Alice had learned early that her suffering was something she was expected to endure alone, quietly, without complaint, and without disturbing anyone else’s comfort.

She endured fevers alone, hunger alone, pain alone, and every moment of weakness became something she had to hide rather than share, because sharing it only brought inconvenience and irritation from those who were supposed to care for her.

Even her education became a silent struggle she carried without recognition, school fees were often delayed until the last possible moment or forgotten entirely, textbooks arrived months late if they arrived at all, and by the age of sixteen she had begun taking secret part-time jobs simply to afford her basic academic needs without drawing attention to herself or inviting more resentment from the household.

Looking back now, she understood with painful precision that the Davison household had only ever provided two things consistently: shelter and food when it was convenient, and even those basic provisions came stripped of warmth, affection, or the sense of safety that a home was supposed to offer a child.

More than once, she had gone to bed hungry, lying awake in silence while listening to distant laughter echoing from downstairs, the sound belonging to a family that never once thought to include her in it, and the memory of those nights tightened painfully around her chest as she walked on through the cold.

Eventually, the weight of everything she had suppressed for years broke through the fragile control she had been maintaining since leaving the mansion.

Her steps slowed gradually until they stopped completely, and before she could fully comprehend what her body was doing, Alice collapsed onto her knees in the middle of the empty road with tears spilling uncontrollably down her face, her entire frame trembling under the emotional pressure she had carried alone for far too long.

Her hands pressed weakly against the cold pavement as her breathing turned uneven and fractured, and in that moment it felt as though something inside her had finally given way completely, leaving nothing behind except exhaustion and grief.

‘What kind of woman was my mother?’

The thought struck her harder than anything else that night, cutting through her pain with a sharpness that left her momentarily breathless.

Alice lowered her head as tears continued falling endlessly onto her trembling hands, her voice trapped somewhere between silence and desperation as questions began forming inside her without mercy.

‘What kind of life did she live, what kind of person was she, was she kind or cruel or simply unfortunate enough to become entangled in something this dark, something she could not escape. What kind of situation leads to something like this?’

The questions repeated endlessly within her mind, overlapping and colliding until they became noise she could no longer separate from her own thoughts, and the more she tried to understand, the more disoriented she became, like the truth itself was deliberately refusing to reveal itself to her.

Everything she had believed about herself collapsed within a single night, leaving behind a hollow sense of unfamiliarity towards her own identity, her name no longer belonged to her in any meaningful way.

Among all the pain consuming her, one truth remained painfully clear, she had always been an outsider inside that house, someone who belonged nowhere, someone who had never truly been given a place to exist safely.

And without Nanny Syan, she was not even certain she would have survived her childhood at all.

Nanny Syan had been the only consistent source of kindness in her life, the only person who looked at her without judgment or indifference, sometimes slipping food into her room on nights she was deliberately sent to bed hungry, sometimes sitting quietly beside her when Linda’s cruelty became unbearable, offering comfort without demanding explanation or repayment.

Those small gestures had carried Alice through years of loneliness more than anyone would ever realize.

Slowly, through the chaos clouding her thoughts, a fragile idea began forming within her exhausted mind, delicate yet persistent enough to refuse dismissal.

Maybe Nanny Syan knew something. Something about her mother. Something about why she existed at all.

Maybe she was the only place left where answers could begin.

That thought gave her just enough strength to rise again, and wiping her face shakily, she forced herself forward despite the exhaustion weighing heavily against her body, as though every step required negotiation with her own will to continue.

The walk toward the main street felt endless, her legs growing heavier with each passing moment while fatigue settled deeper into her bones, her purse nearly empty, her clothes still damp, and her chest feeling hollow in a way that made even breathing feel tiring.

Only when she finally reached the main road filled with passing headlights and distant city noise did she realize how far she had wandered without direction, as though her body had moved while her mind remained trapped in grief.

Several minutes passed before a taxi eventually slowed beside her, the driver observing her hesitantly through the window before finally stopping.

Alice gave Ava’s address quietly and climbed into the back seat without further explanation, leaning against the window as the city lights blurred into streaks of motion while the world outside moved on without her.

Ava was the only person she had left now, the only place that still felt even remotely safe.

By the time the taxi arrived outside Ava’s apartment building, exhaustion had settled so deeply into Alice’s body that even standing required effort she barely possessed.

She dragged herself upstairs slowly before stopping in front of the familiar apartment door and knocking softly, though the sound lacked urgency and strength.

No response came.

She waited a few moments before knocking again, this time weaker, more uncertain, yet still nothing answered her.

Frustration and exhaustion merged into a single dull ache as she checked the time on her phone and exhaled faintly.

“She must still be at work,” she whispered to herself, more out of habit than expectation.

Too tired to remain standing, Alice slowly slid down the wall beside the door until she was seated on the floor, curling inward as her suitcase rested beside her like the last remaining proof of her existence.

Within minutes, sleep claimed her completely.

Her body had simply reached its limit.

Ava was finally returning home after an exhausting night shift, having covered for her colleague Belinda whose child had fallen suddenly ill and required urgent hospital care. Although Ava often complained about her demanding job at the twenty-four-hour five-star restaurant, she secretly enjoyed it, especially because of the food and the occasional generosity of chefs who slipped her carefully packed leftovers when no one was watching.

As always, she had not left empty-handed that night.

She stepped out of the elevator humming softly to herself, balancing several food containers with quiet satisfaction while imagining the comfort of finally eating and sleeping.

‘Perfect timing, as always,’ she thought with tired satisfaction.

Then she stopped.

Someone was sitting outside her apartment door.

A figure curled against the wall beneath the dim hallway light, completely still, unsettling in its silence at such an hour.

Ava’s eyes narrowed immediately.

A thief.’

It was past four in the morning, and in her mind there was no innocent explanation for someone sitting there like that at such an hour.

Her expression hardened instantly as she placed her bags down carefully and rolled her shoulders as though preparing herself for confrontation.

Of all the places to steal from, they chose hers.

Without hesitation, she removed her slippers one by one, gripping them tightly like makeshift weapons as she began to approach the sleeping figure slowly and carefully, every step calculated with exaggerated caution as she prepared to catch the supposed intruder completely off guard.