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.

trance, her listless eyes landed on a stray

one and fell into deep thought, recalling the first

then, Cecilia was

a man

that evening when eight Audi cars abruptly pulled to a stop in front of her house, bringing along more than a

living room of the

the man was none other than Mark Evans from

was also

descended the stairs gracefully, as her father requested her

face, she couldn’t help but think that he appeared to only be in his

him as “Uncle Mark” like he was an

she could see that both her father and brother were intimidated

humble and obedient, Mark might agree to let Rena be with

Cecilia had worn a

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