CHAPTER 109: 108: MEMORIES CHAPTER (9)

Florence Fuller turned her head abruptly upon receiving the slap, the stinging pain on her cheek a stark reminder of what had just occurred.

Michael Fuller had struck her.

In all her years growing up in the Shaw Family, where she had been raised for fifteen years, no one had ever laid a hand on her or even uttered a harsh word.

But with the Fuller Family, in just two years since her return, she was already unwelcome, openly criticized, and now her so-called biological father had even resorted to striking her.

Tears shimmered in Florence’s eyes, but her expression turned vicious.

She stared directly at Michael.

Michael gritted his teeth and glared back coldly as Aunt Wangford came downstairs carrying the violin case: "I found it, sir, it’s here."

"Bring it here to me," Michael cast a chilling look at her.

How dare she oppose her own father at such a young age.

"What do you want to do?" Florence felt a sense of foreboding and hurriedly tried to stop Aunt Wangford, attempting to grab the violin.

Aunt Wangford dodged her: "Oh miss, if the gentleman wants it, just give it to him. Everything in this house is under his control."

"No..."

"Hold her!" Michael commanded sternly.

Two servants came forward and held Florence tightly.

Aunt Wangford handed the violin case directly to Michael.

Michael opened it. He didn’t understand this instrument, but the valuable appearance of the violin was immediately apparent. He held the violin and looked at Florence coldly: "Today, I’ll smash this violin in front of you to crush your hopes."

"No!" Florence pleaded urgently and frantically, "Don’t smash it, don’t smash it!"

Michael raised his hand.

"Don’t smash it!" Florence’s voice was hoarse with desperation, tears streaming down as she struggled against the two servants holding her firmly.

"I’m wrong, I’m wrong," she cried anxiously, "Please don’t smash it."

Michael snorted coldly: "What’s wrong."

"I won’t take the exams, won’t go abroad," Florence shouted, prompting the servants to release her.

She fell to the ground, exhausted: "I’ll return the violin, I won’t learn anymore."

Michael looked at her coldly: "Apologize."

Florence swallowed her bitterness: "I’m sorry, Dad."

Michael: "Sorry for what."

"I shouldn’t have talked back to you."

Michael handed the violin to her.

Florence hurriedly took it, holding it tightly, still shaken.

"Return the violin, from now on, you’re not allowed to learn anymore."

Florence gritted her teeth: "Alright."

Michael gave her a cold glance, bypassed her, and went upstairs to relax.

Laura Yates had been watching the entire event unfold without saying a word.

Florence stood up and glanced in her direction, locking eyes with Clara Fuller’s gloating expression.

She mouthed silently: "Serves you right!"

Florence quietly packed the violin back into the case and left.

Lost in thought, she made her way to the Monrose Family’s home. Inside the living room, Ethan Harper was helping Eleanor with her spoken language, correcting her pronunciation.

Seeing her arrival, Ethan was about to suggest waiting for him to join her in the study, but as he looked up, he saw her head downcast, clutching the violin case, engulfed in gloom.

He sensed something was wrong.

"You go practice in your room for now," Ethan said to Eleanor.

"Okay."

Eleanor also noticed something was wrong with Florence, packed her things, and went to her room.

He got up and walked over, bending slightly, asking gently, "What happened?"

Florence looked up, and Ethan saw her tear-filled eyes and the clear red, swollen imprint of a slap on one side of her face.

Her lips were even split, with traces of blood.

Ethan’s heart tightened, and he asked with a frown, "Who hit you!"

Florence handed him the violin case, her voice choked with sobs, tears falling like broken pearls: "The violin... return it to you..."

Ethan guessed the situation: "They won’t let you go."

Florence’s sobs erupted, her voice trembling, "I... can’t leave..."

The glaring handprint on her fair cheek compelled Ethan to gently touch it, her tears falling onto his hands.

The heat of her tears made his heart tremble involuntarily.

"Florence..." His voice was a bit hoarse, filled with a heartache he hadn’t even realized.

He took the violin case from Florence and placed it on the table.

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, she buried herself in his embrace, crying bitterly.

She had never felt so wronged and humiliated.

In Michael’s eyes, she hardly mattered as a daughter.

This was the first time Ethan had seen her cry like this.

He didn’t know how long it took, but the sobbing in his arms gradually subsided. Once he felt she had cried enough, he softly asked, "Does your face hurt?"

Florence lifted her head, noticing for the first time how her tears had soaked his shirt.

Her face was considerably swollen, and Ethan worried, "I’ll get a doctor to check on you."

The Monrose Family has their own private doctor.

Still in a daze, Florence sat numbly on the sofa until the doctor came, slowly regaining her senses.

The doctor examined her ears and pupils and asked if she felt dizzy or nauseous.

"I felt a little dizzy after it happened, but now it’s better," she replied.

The doctor nodded: "Then it shouldn’t be a serious problem. Your face needs to reduce swelling; I’ll prepare an ice pack."

Florence nodded.

The chill from the ice pack against her swollen face felt slightly uncomfortable, causing Florence to flinch a little.

Ethan withdrew his hand: "Did it hurt?"

"No, it’s just too cold," she said, touching the cracked spot on her lip.

She licked the broken area, tasting a hint of blood.

Ethan wrapped a few sheets of tissue, gently placing them on her cheek.

Florence sat quietly; Ethan applied the ice pack, her eyes cast down, lost in thought.

"Leave the violin here," Ethan wasn’t sure what had happened at the Fuller Family, but seeing her like this, something unfavorable had clearly happened: "You can practice here in the future."

"There’s no point in continuing," her long lashes trembled slightly, "I can’t go abroad to study."

"The Fuller Family won’t let you go."

"He said even if I went and got accepted, he’d find a way to make me drop out and come back."

Ethan’s expression tightened.

With the identity of Florence’s biological parents, it wasn’t impossible.

"I don’t want it to turn into an ugly scene," Florence’s tears fell again, "I’ll stop learning."

Seeing her like this, Ethan couldn’t explain why he too felt a heavy sadness.

He held the ice pack, lost in thought, trying to find a chance for her.

But in what capacity could he help Florence resolve this problem?

What kind of status could stand up to Florence’s biological parents?

None.

Florence’s gaze fell on the violin, filled with sorrow and reluctance.

But at least she had been able to keep the violin.

"What are you thinking?" Florence reached for the ice pack in his hand, pressing it to her face again.

Ethan saw this: "Does it still hurt?"