My parents found me three years ago, but they watched me struggle under the fists of my adoptive father. It wasn't until the candles at the fake daughter's coming-of-age ceremony were blown out that they threw me a card like a charity. "You are already eighteen. You can use your money to live by yourself. Don't disturb Rongrong. We don't want to hear any gossip." I stroked the cold card and suddenly laughed. Who cares about this ridiculous family affection? I want every brick in this mansion to remember that I am not here to recognize my family, but to tear this hypocritical home apart with my own hands.
