The Devils Claim

Chapter 18 Wounds That Never Heal

Katherine took the medicine bottle, tugged at the collar of her windbreaker, and shook her head. "He is not my father, no! I will apologize to no one! From childhood to adulthood, he would whip me cruelly. He should know—I will never call him Father.”

"You..." Mother Lane was at a loss for words. This girl's temperament was as stubborn as her mother's. What could she possibly say?

Whenever she thought back to the past, her heart ached. She owed Katherine an apology, and even more so, her mother. Despite endless words in her mind, she could only manage to say, "I'm sorry."

Looking at the dazed Mother Lane, Katherine repressed her temper, took a deep, cooling breath, and said, "Mother Lane, you can go back. I'm okay. I've been used to it all these years. Goodbye."

With that, she tightened her windbreaker and walked away from the hill alone.

Mother Lane's eyes filled with tears as she watched her, her heart utterly breaking.

At the foot of the hill, a car sped into view. Aaron quickly got out, his face full of worry when he saw her tear-streaked face. "Miss Sincliar, what's wrong?"

Katherine shook her head. "I'm fine."

Without another word, she got into the car, resting painfully against the seat. "Let's go."

Aaron took one look at her pale face and the blood staining her skirt. He didn’t ask any more questions but immediately sent a text message to Leon before driving straight back to the seaside villa.

Thirty Minutes Later

Katherine, covered in wounds, returned to the large bedroom.

Mia pushed open the door and was immediately stunned into silence at the sight of Katherine's back. Her voice trembled as she whispered, "Kate... what is this?"

Katherine placed the medicine Mother Lane had given her onto the table and said, "Mia, help me apply the medicine."

Seeing the wounds, Mia felt a chill run down her spine. All whip marks. The deep, bloody lacerations made her hands tremble as she picked up the medicine. Thinking of the news she had seen on the TV earlier that day, she hesitantly asked, "Did your father do this?"

"He's not my father..." Katherine immediately retorted.

"But why? Kate, why would he be so heartless? The wounds on your back are so deep... it must hurt so much!"

As she listened, tears streamed down Katherine’s face relentlessly. Pain seared through her—not just the pain of the physical wounds, but the pain of having such a father, the pain of being unable to express herself.

She had to endure it all on her own, wishing only that she had been born into an ordinary family.

Mia gently applied the medicine to other wounds, causing Katherine to tense up and draw in a sharp breath. "Mia, be gentle..."

"I'm so sorry, Kate. I'm being as gentle as I can, but the wounds are deep. We should go to the hospital! What if it gets infected? Kate..." Mia’s voice was filled with worry.

Katherine shook her head slightly. "No need, Mia. Just keep applying the medicine. I'll be okay. It's always been like this, and I've always been fine."

"Always?" Mia gasped in shock, covering her mouth. Looking at the scars on Katherine’s back, she asked, "How can he be so cruel, Kate?"

"I'm a troublemaker. I always mess things up. This time, it’s the biggest mistake—I affected his reputation and the whole Sinclair family. That’s why he was so harsh." Katherine let out a bitter laugh. "I was already gone when my sister passed away, so he couldn't hit me then. But now… I suppose some of these strokes were meant for my sister."

Her tears fell like pearls from a snapped string. She wasn’t even sure if she was crying because of Maxwell's punishment or because of the guilt she still carried over her sister’s death.

Mia could feel the bitterness and pain in her words, and it distressed her. "Kate, have you ever thought about trying to get along with your father?"

Upon hearing this, Katherine found it hilariously absurd.

All her life, she had enviously watched others with loving fathers and beautiful mothers. She had always longed for such a life. But now, she had become accustomed to this reality—she no longer cared.

"Mia, just apply the medicine," she said flatly.

She chose silence. Because she knew that if she spoke, Mia would keep pressing her for answers. And she wasn’t ready to reopen those wounds.