The Silent Luna's Trial (Maple and Finn) novel Chapter 77

**When the Last Candle Sang to the Ocean Wind by Aurelion Kyre Solvane 77**

Despite the turmoil swirling around me, my father and mother remained oblivious, as if my existence was nothing more than a shadow flickering in the background.

Eventually, my mother, with her usual fervor, pulled some strings and managed to secure me a position at a meatpacking plant. She insisted, “Go earn money, it’s time you contributed.”

“Work hard and make sure to send the money home promptly. Isabelle is in high school now—her expenses are enormous,” she added, her voice carrying a weight that felt crushing.

Every single word seemed to revolve around Isabelle, my sister, as if I were merely an afterthought, a ghost haunting the periphery of her thoughts. I stood there, pale and trembling, the unmistakable signs of my period staining my pants, yet she didn’t spare me a single glance.

The days at the meatpacking plant were grueling, a relentless cycle of labor that left me exhausted. Yet, amidst the chaos, there existed a small sanctuary—a dusty library filled with old textbooks and discarded novels. During breaks, I would race to that haven, my heart pounding with excitement, eager to immerse myself in the world of knowledge.

Some of the older workers had experienced high school themselves. They recognized the spark of ambition in my eyes and were more than willing to share their wisdom. I found solace in their kindness as they offered to help me connect with a local high school, igniting a flicker of hope within me.

Most of my earnings were dutifully sent home, but I managed to squirrel away a little for myself, nurturing dreams of returning to school, of reclaiming my future.

But on that fateful day, fever burning through me like wildfire, I fell behind in sending the money. My parents stormed into the meatpacking plant, fury etched on their faces, their voices a cacophony of rage. They unleashed their wrath without mercy, without hesitation.

My coworkers, startled by the scene, attempted to intervene, but in the chaos, my precious books spilled open, and the cash I had hidden within fluttered to the ground like fallen leaves.

Then came my father’s boot—a brutal kick that landed squarely in my gut, the air rushing from my lungs.

“You ungrateful brat! Hiding money from us? I’ll beat you to death!” he roared, his voice reverberating in my ears.

My mother, fueled by her own fury, tore my textbooks to shreds, her eyes blazing with contempt.

“You think you can study? You believe you’re worthy of school? You’re nothing but trash!” she spat, her words cutting deeper than any physical blow.

I knelt on the floor, desperation clawing at my throat as I pleaded with her, “Mom, please, don’t do this. Those books aren’t even mine. I worked so hard just to borrow them…”

But my father’s hand struck my face with a force that sent stars dancing before my eyes.

“Still talking back? Your mother can do whatever she wants to you! And you—if you’ve got money, you should be using it wisely, not wasting it on this rubbish!” he shouted, his voice laced with venom.

They ripped my books apart, tossing them into a bucket of water, stomping them down with their feet as if they were crushing my very spirit.

They turned my small dorm room upside down, taking every cent I had earned, leaving me with nothing but the hollow echo of their footsteps as they departed.

Before they left, my mother shot me a cold glance, her voice dripping with disdain. “Since you have so much free time, go find another job. Isabelle has plenty of tutoring expenses.”

I was left with nothing, a hollow shell of myself. While they poured all their energy and resources into Isabelle’s future, they never once paused to consider how I would survive, how I would eat or clothe myself without a single penny in my pocket.

Unable to return the borrowed books, I was forced to find another part-time job to pay for them.

My second job took me to a construction site, where I was relegated to grunt work. It was even more grueling than the meatpacking plant.

There was a moment when I found myself struggling with a bucket full of cement, its weight overwhelming. My body, already weakened from my period, gave out beneath me.

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