BAM!
The wall swallowed it halfway, leaving it lodged there as though it had chosen to die a noble death, embedded in stone rather than be part of her misery any longer.
Divya stood there, panting, her chest heaving with indignation. What type of hell hole is this? She looked around the room, disgust creeping over her. Hell, even my dog had it better than me. At least he didn't have to deal with this crap. Her eyes narrowed. Wait, scratch that. My dog had a way better life. At least in my family, he was the youngest, the favorite. And I? I was lower than a dog's backside in their eyes. Hell, I might as well be the family's doormat.
But just as quickly as the thought came, she shoved it aside. Forget it. No point in diving into that sad excuse for a history.
She turned back to the room, taking in the dismal surroundings. Two sets of clothes—one worn, the other barely holding on to its form. This place was as useless as a broken wheel. She could tear everything apart, rearrange the rubble, and still find nothing worth a damn.
This is it. This is my life now.
Frustrated and bitter, Divya spun on her heel, her mind already set on leaving. But as she took a step, something small—something almost unnoticed—slipped between her feet.
What in the world...
Before she could react, the brush sent her off balance, and with a dramatic BAM, she collapsed directly onto the bed of dry grass. The sudden jolt sent a few insects hopping onto her like they'd been waiting for the exact moment to invade her personal space.
"Ouch! Damn it!" she yelped, slapping at them furiously. No, no, NO! This is not happening right now!
She scrambled to get the insects off, her hands slick against the dry grass. As she pushed herself up, something caught her finger—something solid. Her heart skipped a beat.
Her eyes widened in shock as she pulled away the grass to reveal a small, hidden pouch nestled beneath the tangled mess.
What?
Divya's fingers trembled as she opened it, unsure whether to hope for another sad scrap of forgotten life—or something... more. And then she saw it. More than fifty gold coins, gleaming in the dim light like little nuggets of fortune just waiting to change her fate.
Fifty.
Her breath caught. She knew enough to understand the gravity of it. Gold coins weren't just some loose change thrown around carelessly. Fifty was an amount that could make or break a person. She stared at the small pile in disbelief.
How the hell did this happen? She'd read enough novels to know that Pang Pang, the so-called "least favored daughter," wasn't exactly rolling in gold. So why did she, of all people, have this hidden stash?
She stared at the coins, the world around her momentarily fading away. Whatever had been planned for her today, it was now secondary.
Divya's mind raced as she stared at the fifty gold coins, the weight of their potential settling on her. She couldn't believe it. Two gold coins were enough for a family of four to live a full year without any problems. So, fifty? That was more than enough to secure her future for several years, if she managed it properly. But then the question hit her like a ton of bricks: Why was this money hidden here?
Her fingers tightened around the pouch as a knot formed in her stomach. Someone—someone—had gone through the trouble of hiding it. But who? And more importantly, why?
Still reeling from the discovery, her attention shifted back to the dry grass where she'd just been sitting. Something was... off. She froze, eyes narrowing as she observed the small, crawling creatures around her. Ants, centipedes, all kinds of insects—yet none of them had bitten her. Why? There were more than enough to send her into a frenzy of scratching, but they left her untouched.
That's when it hit her. The bed of dry grass was teeming with life, yet not a single insect dared to make a meal out of her. Divya's brow furrowed. That's not right.
Sure, insects would settle into dry grass after a while, but this—this was different. The variety, the sheer number of them, all clustering around her bed—it didn't add up. And why would they choose her bed in the first place? A bed made of stone? No. She would've felt the pain of every jagged corner, every sharp edge, but there was none of that. She felt strangely at ease... too comfortable.
Something's off. Something's very off.
Her instincts screamed at her to pay attention, but she couldn't quite place what was making her feel so uneasy. That's when a thought popped into her head, one she immediately dismissed as foolish, but couldn't help but entertain for a moment.
What if the bed wasn't just made of dry grass? What if it was something more?
Shaking her head at the idea, she stood up abruptly, turning to the spot where the paintbrush had flown earlier. Her heart pounded in her chest as she picked it up, eyes scanning the room. She couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that she was missing something—something important.
Her gaze landed on the door. Two small locks were attached, but there was nothing to secure the door from the outside. No handle. No way to close it properly. Just two locks, strangely unhelpful. A wave of realization washed over her, and with quick, deliberate movements, she placed the brush between the two locks. As she did, she felt the strange sense of satisfaction—both locks now jammed and unable to be pushed open from the outside.
Her mind raced as she backed away from the door, looking again at the bed. Something wasn't right about this place. It was almost... too quiet, too still. Taking a deep breath, Divya steeled herself. She wasn't about to leave it to chance anymore.
With swift, fluid movements, she swept all the brushes off the ground, one by one, her heart hammering in her chest. She had a feeling that, once she saw what was underneath, there would be no turning back.