The Day Our Promise Breaks

Charles pushed open the door. He stood there, completely taken aback by what

he saw inside. There was Sandy, kneeling on the bed, her young face twisted with a darkness and malice that seemed entirely out of place for someone her age.

In that moment, only one thought raced through Charles's mind: could this really be the sweet, obedient Sandy he knew so well? The Sandy he cherished? He struggled to reconcile this scene with the image of the Sandy he thought he knew.

Charles watched as she held a small doll in one hand and a long needle in the other, cursing Charlie with such venom as she stabbed the doll over and over. It was clear the doll represented Charlie. A wave of fury surged through him. Charlie's death was the deepest scar on Charles's heart. He felt an overwhelming guilt, wishing he could do anything to ensure Charlie would have a better life in the next world. How could he tolerate anyone cursing Charlie like this?noveldrama

Seething with anger, Charles kicked the door open wider and stormed in, his voice sharp and commanding, "Sandy, what are you doing?!"

Sandy, her eyes red from her tirade, was startled by Charles's voice. At first, she was confused. It was late at night; she hadn't expected her father to come by. She paused, turning toward the sound, her expression still twisted with resentment and hatred, her eyes filled with loathing as if staring at an enemy.

But when she saw Charles, her expression changed in an instant. Panic set in. Almost instinctively, she flipped the blanket to hide the doll beneath it, moving so hastily that the needle pricked her palm, nearly piercing through. Tears of pain welled up in her eyes immediately. She knew how much Charles adored her.

Sandy let the tears flow, looking at Charles and deliberately showing him her bleeding palm, crying out pitifully, "Daddy, you're finally here. Sandy waited all day, thinking you'd forgotten her birthday. I thought you wouldn't come to celebrate with me."

While crying, Sandy crawled to the edge of the bed on her knees, reaching out for Charles, asking to be held. In the past, whenever she acted so pitiful and spoke sweet words, Charles's heart would soften.

But this time, Sandy didn't feel Charles's arms wrap around her to comfort her, to apologize and promise to make it up to her. His demeanor remained cold, his gaze only briefly resting on her bleeding palm before turning stern again. He asked coldly, "What were you doing just now?"

"Daddy, Sandy wasn't doing

anything! I was just waiting for you, couldn't sleep, so I was playing with a doll!" Sandy was deeply unsettled inside. As a child, she couldn't fully mask her panic. Yet she tried to change the subject, reaching for the gift box Charles was holding. "Daddy, is this my birthday present?"

Sandy knew if Charles discovered what the doll was, he'd be furious. She couldn't let him see it. Charles tossed the gift aside, stepping forward with an intimidating presence, "Show it to me!"

"Daddy..." More tears flooded Sandy's eyes, a look of fright on her face. She gingerly tugged at Charles's sleeve as she had done when seeking forgiveness, "Daddy, you're scaring Sandy. Please don't look at Sandy like that. I'm so afraid."

At this moment, Sandy seemed to revert to the familiar girl Charles knew. But the image of Sandy he had just witnessed wouldn't leave his mind. Seeing her continue to evade his question, Charles lost his patience. He roughly moved Sandy aside and reached to uncover the blanket himself.

"Daddy, don't look!" Sandy cried out in panic, lunging to stop him. But there was no stopping Charles. She watched helplessly as he lifted the blanket and took the doll into his hands.

The discovery was undeniable, and Sandy's face went pale with fear. She knelt on the bed, her body

trembling with terror. Charles nonet

longer had the attention to spare for Sandy's state. His eyes were fixed on the doll in his hand. It had Charlie's name written ofpit, with several of Charlie's photos attached. The doll was riddled with holes, Charlie's face covered in pinpricks. Clearly, it hadn't been stabbed just once. Who knew how many times this doll had been pierced, how many times Charlie had been cursed?

Charles's hand shook as he held the doll. His heart twisted with pain. His Charlie! What kind of little demon had he been nurturing all these years? Overcome with a mix of heartbreak and rage, Charles lost control and suddenly struck Sandy across the face.

"Sandy, why would you do this?" Charles looked at Sandy, his eyes burning with anger. There was disappointment, fury, and regret for his failure to see the truth. Scenes from the past played vividly in his mind. The first meeting between Charlie and Sandy. Sandy falling into the pool, claiming Charlie pushed her. He had believed Sandy and punished Charlie. Made her stand by the poolside as punishment. She had returned home with a fever. In the Oakwood Manor's surveillance footage, a feverish Charlie clung to Eve, the little girl crying with such sorrow, repeatedly insisting she hadn't pushed Sandy, saying it was Sandy who had pushed herself into the pool.