**Chapter 45: Humiliation** The tension in the air was palpable as Janet stood with fierce determination. When the maid scurried into the house, her heart raced with anticipation. The words she had just spoken to Fiona were all too serious, and she knew they could ignite a firestorm. Inside, as the maid relayed Janet's words, Fiona's joy began to unravel. She had been savoring the sweetness of fresh strawberries, but the moment the maid's message sunk in, her hand paused mid-air, the vibrant red of the fruit suddenly mocking her. Heat surged to her cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from a furious rage that burned deep within. “How could she speak to us like that?” Fiona fumed, casting a seething glance at Bernie, who occupied the seat beside her. “We took her in! We adopted her! Though she never warmed to us, I expected at least a modicum of gratitude! Remember when your parents insisted on the adoption? They thought they were doing us a favor, yet look at the chaos that’s unfolded! Now she dares to blackmail us!” Her voice trembled, a mixture of fury and sorrow as memories of sacrifices made for Janet surged forward, their sting intensifying. Tears welled in her eyes, and she hastily dabbed at her cheeks with a tissue, each wipe another reminder of her perceived injustice. Bernie, sensing the brewing storm, sighed heavily. “No, Janet isn’t like that. She wouldn’t do such a thing. This is on you, Fiona. If only you had kept your promise and given her the money, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” His words fell on deaf ears as Fiona succumbed to dramatics. She cradled her face in her trembling hands, her voice rising in a wail. “Jocelyn is our flesh and blood! Our legitimate child! She deserves to have a future, to live comfortably. We raised Janet for all these years, and what reward do we get? She thinks marrying Ethan is some sort of repayment, yet here she is, ruining everything!” Fiona’s eyes darted around in panic. The thought of her precious Jocelyn’s true lineage being exposed sent chills down her spine. To Ethan, she was but a mere pawn in a greater game—one that she feared could unravel at any moment. If he discovered that Janet had been masquerading as Jocelyn’s stand-in, hell would likely break loose. When their eyes met, Bernie’s frown deepened. “Janet just wants money. We could give her some to quiet her,” he said, glancing at their wealth scattered across the luxurious room. Fiona flicked away the tears with a frustrated swipe of her hand, the jade bracelet on her wrist chiming softly in response. Her heart sank at the very idea of giving Janet anything. The thought felt like a betrayal to her own flesh and blood. “Fine,” she relented with a reluctance that seeped into her voice. “But it won’t be much.” Storming upstairs, she dialed Janet’s number, her anger erupting like a volcano ready to erupt. “Janet! You’ve crossed the line! Are you really willing to destroy your family over money? We’ve provided for you all these years—how could you become so ruthless?” The venom in her voice was thick, releasing years of pent-up resentment. Janet, as unyielding as a stone wall, responded coldly, “Where’s the money? If you don’t hand it over, I’ll have no choice but to tell Ethan everything.” Fiona’s blood boiled. “We’ve done everything we could! The money is gone. I’ll have the maid bring you some belongings you can sell. It’s the best I can do.” Moments later, as Janet stood outside the opulent Lind family villa, the maid emerged, arms filled with bags she unceremoniously tossed at her. “Take these and leave!” Her tone was devoid of warmth, as the door slammed shut with finality. Crouching on the driveway, Janet began to sift through the offerings—old jewelry that had long lost its luster, tattered gowns, and worn-out handbags. It was a mockery of generosity. “Are you actually treating me like some kind of charity case?” Janet scoffed bitterly at the piles of discarded treasure. A neighbor glanced her way as if pitying her misfortune, but Janet offered only a tight-lipped smile in return. “No, thank you,” she said softly, the weight of humiliation heavy on her shoulders. Fiona's disdain and cruelty had become all too familiar, and yet each act felt like a fresh wound. As she hoisted the bags, Janet pondered over the practicality of the situation. Perhaps she could turn these cast-offs into something valuable. It was better than returning home empty-handed, but even this meager collection felt inadequate. Surely, it would hardly scratch the surface of what was required for Hannah’s liver transplant operation. With that thought lingering like a shadow, Janet walked away from the villa, determination igniting a flicker of hope within her. While Fiona treated her like refuse, she would rise above it—she would reclaim her worth, one way or another.