KAYLA'S POV:
After a full day of suffering through detention and then working at the café, I dragged myself home feeling like my soul had been personally wrung out and hung to dry.
My whole body was trembling from exhaustion.
The moment I stepped into my room, I didn't even bother changing. I collapsed face-first onto my bed and fell asleep so fast it was like I had swallowed a handful of sleeping pills.
No thoughts.
No dreams.
Just death.
The next day was Sunday.
Which meant two very important things:
movie night
and
my plans.
Unlike yesterday's tragedy, today was supposed to be perfect.
So naturally, I spent the first half of the day fixing my mood the only way a girl like me knew how.
Shopping.
Not ordinary shopping, obviously.
I went for new clothes, elegant, expensive, and gorgeous enough to make random women hate me on sight.
Then jewelry.
Delicate gold chains, sparkling bracelets, rings that looked innocent but cost more than a month of cafeteria lunches, and earrings so luxurious they practically whispered, you could never.
After that?
Spa.
Facial.
Manicure.
Pedicure.
Massages.
Soft music.
Cucumber slices.
Peace.
Luxury.
Perfection.
Honestly, it was the best part of being adopted into a rich family.
Not the fake family dinners.
Not the fake smiles.
Not the fake affection.
Not the forced concern.
No.
This was the best part.
The luxury.
The money.
The endless ability to buy whatever I wanted without checking the price tag.
That was real.
Everything else?
I didn't care.
It didn't matter.
They were rich. They had more than enough. They were practically born to spoil me.
And honestly?
They should be grateful.
They should be happy they had a daughter like me, one who didn't beg for their fake love or fake emotional bonding.
I didn't want their hugs.
I didn't want their soft little "we care about you" speeches.
I wanted the only thing that actually mattered.
Their money.
Their real wealth.
That was enough for me.
More than enough.
By the time I got home, I was glowing.
Fresh manicure.
Soft skin.
Hair done.
Shopping bags in both hands.
My adoptive mother and her husband were out for dinner tonight, so the house was completely empty.
Perfect.