Chapter 2 Mental Illness?

• It was my younger daughter, Lucy.
• She was only five, but she’d inherited my eyes, light brown irises, clear as spring water under moonlight.
• William’s brows drew together. “Who told you to bring her here?”
• “I came on my own.” Lucy lifted her chin, her voice baby-soft but serious.
• She wriggled free of the butler’s arms and walked toward me carefully, reaching up to tug at the edge of my clothes.
• “Mom,” she looked up, eyes wet but stubborn, “you went to prison and you still want a divorce? Will people laugh at you?”
• I froze.
• In that instant, something stabbed hard into my chest.
• Her words—they were actually identical to Rocco’s.
• But her voice trembled, clean and pure.
• I crouched down, my fingers brushing gently through her hair.
• She was too little. She’d only been taught by them —a woman who’d been in Moon Fang Keep was shameful.
• I gave a hoarse little smile. “That’s Mom’s business. It has nothing to do with what other people think.”
• Lucy blinked, half understanding, then added in a whisper, “But… I’m worried you’ll be sad.”
• I almost couldn’t hold back my tears.
• William’s voice cut cold. “Rocco’s right. If you leave the Blackwells, where are you going to go? Julie, if you keep this up, you’ll turn yourself into the entire Pack’s joke!”
• I didn’t react.
• I got into an Uber.
• The old little screen in the car suddenly lit up.
• It wasn’t the news.
• It was surveillance footage.
• In the video, a woman was chained to the wall with silver chains.
• She was covered in wounds. Her eyes were hollow. She howled at the camera like a beast.
• Her hair was a mess, and the sound clawing out of her throat was low and almost inhuman.
• I recognized her in one glance—me.
• A cell in Moon Fang Keep.
• Me from three years ago.
• When the video ended, the screen cut to an interview set. She sat there in a white dress.
• “Ann, as the victim, what do you think?”
• Every word dripped with sympathy for Ann.
• Ann looked into the camera, gentle as a saint.
• “Julie was just sick. And besides, she’s already paid the price for what she did.”
• The reporter wouldn’t let it go.
• “Is it a mental illness? Do we really need a Luna with mental illness?”
• Ann only smiled, not answering.
• The driver glanced at the screen and recognized her.
• “That’s Ann, right? Oscar-winning actress. I heard she even visited you back then.”
• He chuckled, shaking his head. “Such a good person.”
• I lifted my eyes to the screen.
• That woman’s smile was so soft it looked holy.
• Behind her, I saw the version of me they’d chosen to define—
• A madwoman.
• A sinner.
• Someone she had “saved”.
• “Good person?”
• My throat tightened. I laughed.
• “That’s pretty ruthless.”
• The driver paused, looking at the washed-out prison clothes I was still wearing, and didn’t ask anything else.
• I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes.
• For three years, I’d been in Moon Fang Keep with silver chains cutting into my bones, silver poison burning through my bones.
• And they’d been out there, watching fireworks with her, cheering her onto the Moon Shadow Hall stage.
• What a joke.
• The car finally stopped in front of an old house under my name.
• I got out, paid the fare, then walked to a nearby supermarket for basic supplies.
• When I went to prison three years ago, every asset under my name was frozen.
• Now that I was out, the only cash I had left was emergency money I’d secretly hidden back then.
• It had been too long since I’d been in crowds. I realized I didn’t even know how to behave anymore.
• When the cashier reached out to scan my items, I flinched back on instinct.
• “Miss, are you okay?” the cashier asked kindly.
• I shook my head and gave a bitter smile.
• I was fine.
• It was just that in prison, the beatings had broken my spirit.
• The moment I stepped out of the supermarket, my phone vibrated.
• It’s Celine.
• “Julie! You’re finally out!”
• On the other end, my best friend’s voice was shaking from excitement.
• “I tried to get back to Los Angeles early, but storm season grounded the flights here. Where are you right now? Are you still at the Blackwells?”
• “I’m at Moon Building,” I said.
• Celine went quiet for two seconds, her brows knitting. “William didn’t pick you up? You’re still married, after all. He…”
• “Celine, I’m divorcing him.”
• I said those words softly, like tearing a chunk of flesh off my chest.