The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 305

Penelope narrowed her eyes. This was their new tactic: public humiliation.

“I’m not Warner’s granddaughter.”

The person on the other end paused. “Sir,” he called out, away from the phone, “she says she’s not your granddaughter. Do you have the wrong number?”

“My granddaughter resents me. She doesn’t want to see me.”

It was him. His voice.

A chill shot down Penelope’s spine. It was like a hand with sharp claws reaching out from the darkness, grabbing her, its nails digging into her flesh, bringing both pain and fear.

“Why does she resent you?” the caller asked.

“Years ago, her mother killed her father—my second son—and was arrested. We felt sorry for our granddaughter, losing her father and about to lose her mother, so we signed a letter of forgiveness. Her mother was released and immediately remarried, taking our granddaughter with her. We missed her terribly and would often travel to the next city just to see her, but her mother didn’t want the girl to be close to us. She filled her head with lies about us, and the child grew to hate us.”

“No, they’re lying!” Penelope hissed into the phone.

“I’ll never forget that one winter,” a woman’s voice now. “We couldn’t sleep for missing our granddaughter, so we decided to go see her, even if it was just from a distance.”

Penelope’s body trembled. She remembered how, as a child, Mrs. Lancaster had despised her for being a girl, constantly scolding and hitting her when her mother wasn’t around.

“My son works so hard to earn a living, and for what? To support a useless bitch who gives birth to another worthless girl? You two are nothing but leeches on our family!”

Even at that young age, she knew how hard life was for her mother in that house. To avoid adding to her burden, she had gritted her teeth and endured it.

But her silence didn’t bring peace. When Mrs. Lancaster learned from her son that Penelope wasn’t his biological daughter, she beat her mother viciously. Then, while her mother was at work, she lured Penelope onto a train and abandoned her.

The kidnapper glared at her and quickly disappeared into the next car.

The woman asked if she was alone and needed help. Wary of trusting anyone, Penelope said her parents were in another car and ran off.

The moment the train stopped, she got off. Her mother had always told her that if she ever got lost, she should either stay put or find a police officer.

She knew staying put was pointless, so she looked for a uniformed officer, but the station was a chaotic sea of people, and she was too small. She was swept out of the station before she could find anyone.

But she knew the way home. She started walking, asking for directions along the way.

The fear that gripped her tiny body was immense. She was so tired she could barely move, but she pushed on. When hunger and thirst became unbearable, she begged for food and water at restaurants. At night, she hid in the corner of a park.