Julia knew that scene by heart; it was etched into her memory forever.

There was no fond remembrance, no sense of reunion, just a surge of hatred that filled her heart.

The first time, it was Walter's goons who dragged her there. She was bound and helpless, tied to an old, rusty bed. Ignored by everyone, those men left her there, alone on that cold bed, drowning in a sea of despair.

How ironic.

Back then, Julia knew nothing, still naively hoping Walt would come to her rescue.

Eventually, Walt did show up... but not to save her. He was the one who sent her tumbling into a new kind of hell.

A hell far worse than that rusty bed.

Julia's steps were deliberate, slow, as if she was measuring the warehouse with her feet.

She stopped only when she reached a narrow iron door.

Julia's lips twisted into a wicked grin as she pictured the scene inside. She could not believe Evangeline's turn of fate.

snicker, put her shoulder into it,

was a blast from the past, just like when she was the one in ropes. The same rickety metal bed

it was not Julia tied to

it isn't the Foster family's darling princess. It's been a

heels clicking, moved toward

it was seeing Evangeline

it was knowing that Evangeline's fate-alive or dead, saint or sinner-was all in

what felt like forever, wondering if Julia was

why go through all this

"Hahaha!"

heartily, then squinted

Fitx

I wouldn't dream of it You, my dear sister Evangeline, are the

QUMS

dripped with feigned innocence, but in

was like, 'Please, guys'. But you know how it is, Evangeline. These goons don't know how to hold back, and Dwas out of

watched Julia put on her innocent act, feeling a wave

Julia. It's over. You say 'please', but

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