The Luna Who Owed Them Nothing Chapter 08

The Luna Who Owed Them Nothing Chapter 08

A week later, I discharge myself from the hospital.

Dad is already waiting downstairs when I come out. The moment he sees me, he walks over.

“Come back to the pack house and recover. Where else can you go on your own?”

I look up at him, the bandages still wrapped around my head.

“Which home? The attic, or the balcony you made me sleep on later?”

Dad freezes.

“No, no. That’s not what I mean.” He quickly explains, “Your mother and I have already prepared a

new bedroom for you. It gets plenty of sunlight. It’s spacious and comfortable.”

“We were wrong before.”

He pauses, his voice dropping, “Can you give Mom and Dad another chance? At least… I really do care about you.”

I look at him and finally shake my head, “Dad, honestly, I’ve gotten used to it after all these years.”

“I’m used to Mom insulting me like I’m her enemy. I’m used to Damon saying he only has one sister, Eden. And I’m used to you standing there like an outsider every time, silently allowing them

to treat me that way.”

Dad’s face slowly turns pale.

I smile faintly.

“So when you really think about it, you’re no different from them in my heart. You’re all people I’m

related to by blood, yet you’re also the people who feel the most like strangers.”

With that, I hail a car and leave without looking back.

That same day, $200,000 appears in my bank account. Dad transfers it to me.

I feel nothing about it.

I take the money to the Obsidian Pack, rent a studio apartment near the school, and start studying ahead for college.

When the semester begins, I move into the dorms.

It is a four-person room with an uncomfortably hard bed, but when I lie down on it, I feel safe for the first time in my life.

During this time, Mom and Dad call me almost every day.

I do not answer a single call. Even Damon sends me messages.

[We know we were wrong. Please come home. Mom cries every day.]

[Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.)

After reading them, I reply with only a few words.

[Don’t bother.]

Send. Block.

A few days later, the security guard tells me someone is looking for me.

When I reach the entrance, I see Mom.

She cannot come inside, so she stands outside the school gates, waiting from afternoon until

nightfall.

The moment she sees me, her eyes light up.

She raises the thermos in her hand, “Aria, I made clam chowder. It was your favorite when you

were little.”

I walk over but do not take it, “Mom, go home.”

The moment she hears me still call her Mom, a flicker of joy appears on her face.

But I shake my head, “No matter what, you’re still my mother by blood. But I’m no longer your

daughter.”

With that, I turn around and walk away.

Behind me comes the sound of the thermos hitting the ground, followed by a muffled cry filled with

regret.

I still do not turn around.

Not long after the semester begins, my advisor reviews my records and arranges a campus job for

me, along with a fast-track option for student financial aid.

My hand trembles slightly as I sign the paperwork, writing my name carefully, one stroke at a time.

Aria Langley.

At that moment, I suddenly remember being eight years old.

Because of that $5, I am forced to sign my name on a promissory note for the first time.

Back then, my handwriting is crooked and clumsy.

Now, I can finally write my name with my head held high.