In the en suite bathroom, Cecilia squatted next to the toilet and cried bitterly.

She knew that doing so meant that she had hit rock bottom.

But she couldn’t control herself.

This was the only way she could release her pent-up frustration, because the moment she walked out that door, she’d have to pretend that she was completely fine.

She still had to be a good daughter.

She still had to be a good mother.

She still had to be a glamorous model…

“Suck it up, Cecilia,” she told herself through gritted teeth.

She told herself she wasn’t allowed to cry.

her listless eyes landed on a stray pack

and fell into deep thought,

Cecilia was young

a

that evening when eight Audi cars abruptly pulled to a stop in front of her

room of the Fowler’s house, looking

Cecilia learned that the man was none other than Mark

was also

descended the stairs gracefully, as her father requested her

attractive face, she couldn’t help but think that he appeared to only

address him as “Uncle Mark” like he was

second thought, she could see that both her father and brother were

she figured that if she was humble and obedient, Mark might agree to let Rena

worn a simple white

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