I clenched my fists, the sting of humiliation burning through me, but I kept silent. I knew my place there was shaky and fragile, and for now, I didn’t want to fight. I just wanted to be home.
Without another word, I turned toward my room. As I opened the door, I froze.
Boxes and bags filled the space. The clutter was filling every corner. My belongings were nowhere to be seen.
I turned to Gracia, who was standing in the hallway, her gaze averted. “Mom, what happened to my room?”
She bit her lower lip as she avoided my eyes. “Well… you were gone for so long, and Celestia needed the space. We had to use your room for storage.”
“And my things?” I was blanked. I opened my mouth twice but no words came out. Even though I already dreaded the answer, still I forced myself to ask,
She looked away. “We got rid of them.”
Every word hit me like a slap, but it was my uncle, Richard, who twisted the knife deeper.
From the sofa, he barely glanced at me. “Victoria, Celestia's five months pregnant. She needs a clean, open space for the baby. You didn’t need those things anymore.”