Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
Her tearful cry was gut-wrenching. The two of them looked so pitiful, like they were the real victims. Owen stared at Elsie, who was shielding him with her entire body, and his eyes went red. Such a good sister, so genuine, so devoted. How could he not be moved-of course he was.
He looked up again, glaring at Yunice with hatred in his eyes. He looked at Elsie, then back at Yunice’s indifferent face. She always accused him of playing favorites, but in moments like this, it was impossible not to.
Owen was consumed with hatred-so much that it drowned out his fear. He stared daggers at Yunice and growled through clenched teeth, “So all twenty years of taking care of you went to waste. If I’d known you’d turn out so cruel, I wouldn’t have lifted a finger when no one wanted you.”
Yunice lowered her eyes, her thoughts drifting to the past. Her dad once told her that just a few days after she was born, her mother disappeared. Her father was so obsessed with finding her that he barely came home, constantly lost in a daze. The nanny at home didn’t care either, and Yunice had cried herself hoarse in her crib from hunger. It was Owen who held her, soothed her, fed her bottle after bottle until their father finally came home.
No one’s made of stone. Of course, I was moved. But memories were one thing. After three years locked in a psychiatric hospital and her current status as someone without legal ID, there was no way she could ever forgive Owen.
Elsie sobbed and begged Yunice, “Yunice, say something… Owen was so good to you, don’t you remember?”
Yunice replied coldly, “Yeah, I remember. I remember how good he was to me-and I remember how he took all of it back.”
Owen looked up at her with seething anger, his eyes saying, So what, you think kindness can be taken back?
Yunice said, “When we were kids, you fed me bottles and gave me a second chance at life. But then you left me in a mental hospital for three years-and that kick you gave me? Consider it payback. As for the rose tree, no matter how well you took care of it, you still cut it down for Elsie.”
“And the jewelry cabinet…” She let out a dry laugh. “Didn’t you already give that to Elsie? All those pieces you gave me over the years, your trophies-you handed them to her like they meant nothing. All I ever had in the Saunders house was a tiny room with bare walls. So tell me, what exactly do I still owe you?”
Owen froze. Had I really taken back the things I’d given Yunice and handed them off to Elsie? Memories he thought he’d long forgotten started flashing back in his mind.
“Owen, Yunice’s jewelry cabinet is so pretty. It’s got such a unique design. I wish I had a brother who treated me that well.”
“Then I’ll make you one too.”
“How could I take a new one? Just give me Yunice’s old one-I’d be happy enough with that.”
“Alright, Yunice, move your cabinet to Elsie’s room.”
“But Owen… I really like that cabinet too. Couldn’t you give her something else?”
“Why are you being so stingy? I told you I’d make you a new one!”
“Fine…”
The memory faded, but Yunice’s dejected expression from that time was still fresh in his mind. He tried to remember-did he ever follow through and make her a new cabinet? Of course, he hadn’t. He clearly remembered how excited he’d been, buying all the materials to make one for her again. But time passed, and his childhood patience and focus had long since faded. He gave up after cutting a single board, tossed all the tools into the storage room, and never touched them again. And yet she remembered all of that, she held a grudge for something so small.
The bald man, tired of all the whining and delays, tilted his head and motioned for the guards to pull Elsie aside. Elsie shrieked through her tears, “If you want those things, just take them! I won’t stop you! But you can’t let Mr. Cooper cut off Owen’s hand-or I swear I’ll never forgive you!”
Wyatt looked over at her, completely unfazed. “Cutting off yours would work just as well.”
“What?” Elsie froze, her whole body going stiff.
The bald man grabbed her hand and, without hesitation, brought the knife down.
“Ahhh!”
“Elsie!” Paul didn’t even have time to react. By the time he rushed forward, it was already too late.
Elsie, with every ounce of strength she had, tried to throw herself behind Owen-but she never felt the blade. Startled, she looked back-and saw Owen catching the knife with his bare hand, stopping the blade just inches from her skin. Bright red blood poured from his palm, warm and wet, dripping steadily onto the back of her hand.
Elsie stood frozen in shock, her mouth open, unable to speak. Wyatt cast a seemingly indifferent glance in Yunice’s direction. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Though her eyes were lowered, calm on the surface, the slight trembling of her chin betrayed the emotion underneath. Maybe that touching scene between the siblings had still, somehow, cut into her.
“Wyatt! You really think you’re above the law? All of this started because of Yunice! She hit Elsie first! Her brother was just disciplining her-what’s wrong with that?” Paul yelled angrily.
“Your wedding’s around the corner, and you’re trying to chop off your future brother-in-law’s hand without even hearing both sides! What will people say about the Powell family when this gets out? I’m telling Grandpa everything you did today!”
Before he even finished, the bald man kicked Owen aside and stepped forward to grab Elsie’s hand again-but she suddenly jerked away, clutching her throat with both hands. Her eyes went wide, her face contorted in pain. It looked like she couldn’t breathe; she made wheezing, choking sounds from deep in her throat.
“Shit-Elsie’s having an asthma attack!” Owen panicked. “Paul, get her some help, now!”
Owen lifted her and passed her into Paul’s arms. Paul spun his wheelchair around, urgently racing off with Elsie toward the emergency room.
Yunice stood quietly, watching this whole dramatic relay of saving Elsie unfold. Elsie didn’t even have asthma. And when the day came that Owen found out the sister he was willing to die for had been lying to him from the very beginning-he’d wear a look no one would ever forget.
But at that moment, Owen wasn’t thinking about any of that. With Elsie safely carried off, he actually let out a relieved smile.
Yunice stepped up to Wyatt and said, “Mr. Cooper, I have a request. Can I decide how to punish Owen?”
“What did you just call me?” Owen turned back, visibly shaken as he looked at her. He knew she was trying to protect him by asking Wyatt for that favor-but hearing her call him that way, so formal and distant, made Owen feel like a complete stranger.
Yunice replied coolly, “I already cut ties with you. If I’m not calling you by your name, why would I call you my brother?”
“What do you mean, cut ties?” Owen snapped.
They shared both parents. That kind of blood bond couldn’t be severed. The bald man twirled the knife in his hand, glancing between the two of them.
Then he said to Yunice with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Ms. Saunders, Mr. Cooper’s standing up for you. Don’t forget who’s on your side.”
There was a roughness to the bald man, and even his ok-ing tone carried a veiled threat. Yunice understood what he meant. Wyatt was defending her; if she backed down now, she’d be putting him in a bad spot. In other words, it’d be like slapping the hand that protected her. But before she could respond, Wyatt shot the bald man a glance. That look was ice-cold-and the bald man immediately realized he’d said too much.
He quickly apologized. “Sorry, Ms. Saunders!”
Yunice blinked, caught off guard. Ever since she’d been admitted to the psych ward, no one had treated her like she mattered. To suddenly have people listen to her… it felt strange. She wasn’t quite used to it.
Owen, on the other hand, was visibly moved. If she was willing to speak up for him, he was ready to let go of the argument from earlier. He hadn’t come today to fight; he’d come to take her home.
Feeling emotional, Owen couldn’t help blurting out that the family was already preparing her dowry-that everyone was taking her seriously now. “Yunny…”
But Yunice wasn’t even listening. She looked at Wyatt and said, “I don’t want his hand. Too bloody.”
Owen frowned.
Wyatt raised an eyebrow, amused. “Then what do you want?”
“I want to borrow a few of your guys to play a game of human pyramid,” she said.
Owen’s eyes went wide in disbelief. Wasn’t she just trying to help me? Then why…
“Human pyramid…” Wyatt smirked. “That’s a new one!”
He reached a hand out toward her, and Yunice obediently walked over to stand by his side. The bald man called out to a few bodyguards, “You lot come here. Ms. Saunders is in charge.”
Yunice lifted her gaze and looked at Owen. “In the psych ward, the people on top of the pyramid always jumped down to crush the one at the bottom.”
Owen’s lips tightened. He frowned at her. So she wanted him to experience what she went through in that place? How hard could that be? If Yunice had handled it, surely he, a grown man, could too.
Owen straightened. “Fine. As long as I get stacked on, will you let go of all that anger?”
Yunice didn’t respond. He gave her one last look, then closed his eyes and said solemnly, “Let’s do it.”
The Daughter in the Shadows
Owen silently counted in his head, trying to see how many seconds Yunice would last before she told them to stop. He couldn’t believe that Yunice didn’t care about him at all-that she truly didn’t care about the Saunders family.
The bald man gave a slight nod, signaling the bodyguards forward. A dozen of them closed in around Owen, piling on with full force. No one could withstand that kind of pressure. Owen was quickly buried under their weight. The bald man stood off to the side, directing, “One on top of another-stack them higher.”
Then he seemed to remember something and turned to ask, “Forgot to check, Ms. Saunders-how long do you want this game to last?”
Yunice didn’t answer. Maybe she hadn’t heard, or maybe she didn’t want to. Her eyes were locked on Owen, who was now pinned under a mountain of bodies. His face turned red, then purple. He couldn’t seem to breathe; his mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
There were too many people stacked on top, some barely able to keep their balance, shifting around constantly just to find space. Owen disappeared entirely under the crushing weight; not even his face was visible anymore-let alone any chance of drawing breath. A 5-foot-11 man, buried so deep he was unrecognizable-only one bloodied hand, veins bulging and fingers trembling, clawed at the floor like it was the last thread keeping him alive.