The Bond That Even Gods Cannot Break

“Fuck! Fuck! Stupid!”

Melissa screamed with all her might as she forced her body through the lake. Anger was the only thing keeping her moving forward in the freezing water.

“Who does she think she is to talk to me like that...”

Her arms struggled to carve a path through the cold water, but no matter how far she went, nothing could be found.

Was it all right to give up? Hadn't she gone far enough?

“Haha” Her weak laugh resounded on the surface of the water.

When that kind of thought became the only thing on her mind, she knew she was hopeless.

Her limp body collapsed into the lake.

Melissa had always known that when you were in a lot of pain, losing consciousness could be lucky. Not being able to feel anything as she sank into the abyss of death would save her from suffering.

(No, please, not again!)

However, the fatigue that was building up was replaced by a scream that seemed to reverberate through her skull. The voice made her want to cover her ears tightly to avoid such pain, but she couldn't get away from it no matter how hard she tried.

Forcing her eyelids open, Melissa realized she was sitting in a chair.

In front of her was a polished wooden desk with countless papers and books laid out on it, the bright lamp making it clear that it was late at night.

I was in the dungeon, where did that come from?

However, while she was trying to understand where she was, a blur flashed across her vision and the cry of pain echoed again.

“Miss Sophia, a score of only seventy percent is unacceptable. Protesting won't help correct your mistakes.”

“Y-Yes, esteemed teacher. I will strive for a perfect score.”

Melissa finally noticed the red little fingers in front of her, squeezing the edge of the skirt of a dress tightly.

(It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts)

The muffled cries that came out of the girl's mouth were nothing compared to the desperate words that seemed to sink straight into Melissa's mind.

Standing next to her was a bespectacled middle-aged woman. She wore a suit with a skirt and held a large wooden ruler in both hands.

That woman called me Sophia? What's going on?

Unable to intervene, Melissa could only watch the small trembling fingers struggle to hold a pen. The body she couldn't control leaned forward and began to solve the sheet of questions on the table.

(I-I can't get it wrong. If I get it wrong, she'll hit me again!)

Unspoken words again invaded his mind. The trembling and fear present in them were visible to Melissa.

Cold sweat dripped down the child's body as the pen carefully answered the questions.

A few minutes passed and a small noise started coming from the teacher's watch. The instant she heard it, the girl froze completely.

(Time's up? I've only done half. No, please don't hit me!)

Turning around cautiously, the girl watched as the teacher turned off the alarm on the clock, the ruler that had previously been in her hands was placed on the desk.

“Looks like our session today is over. Review all the material before bed. We'll have another test tomorrow.”

Without saying another word, the middle-aged teacher left with methodical movements. The instant the door was closed from the outside, the girl collapsed on the desk.

(Thank you... Thank you...)

Melissa realized that she was in a state of extreme alert; her heart was beating so hard that it seemed to be crushing against her ribcage.

It took a few more minutes for her to find the strength to get up and head for the door. Her low line of sight made it clear that her body was just that of a child.

Am I inside Sophia? Was this a private lesson? Why did that woman hit her? Was it because she made a mistake? What kind of stupid idea is that?

Forcing her ankles upwards, the little girl managed to open the door. When Sophia left the room, Melissa had a view of a large two-story luxury apartment.

The small lights of the nighttime city were visible through the glass walls. Paintings and ornaments, whose value she couldn't even estimate, were arranged as decorations throughout the space.

Realizing that the woman had already left the place, even though she was in pain, Melissa noticed that Sophia had forced herself to walk with an upright posture. Her shoulders were back and her head held high. Her steps were soft and controlled to avoid making unnecessary noises.

Entering the bathroom, the tearful little girl bit down on a small towel before placing both red hands in the cold water.

The cries of pain from her heart once again invaded Melissa's mind and she could only watch helplessly as Sophia continued to struggle to endure the pain.

Her irregular breathing eventually calmed down and she began to apply an ointment that was in the bathroom cupboard. The fact that Sophia made these movements without wasting any time made it obvious to Melissa that she went through this frequently.

Just then, the sound of a door opening reached her ears.

Sophia carefully dried her hands and walked to the entrance of the house. Placing one foot in front of the other and holding the hem of her skirt gently, she lowered her head slightly in respect and spoke.

“Welcome back, esteemed mother”

Melissa couldn't see what the woman looked like. Not once did Sophia dare to take her eyes off the floor.

“Sophia, remind me, how old are you?”

“I turned seven this year, dear mother”

"Sophia, your tutor informed me about your last exam. At your age, you should be more than capable of solving problems at this level."

"I'm sorry for the result, esteemed mother. I will work tirelessly to correct my mistakes." 

"Starting tomorrow, I have a business trip abroad, so you will be with the housekeeper for a few weeks. We expect great things from you; do not disappoint us." 

"Yes, esteemed mother." 

After their brief exchange, the woman entered one of the rooms and locked the door. Not a single attempt was made to communicate with Sophia again. 

Didn't she mention anything about Sophia's hand? Did she even notice it? 

Oblivious, or perhaps resigned to the same thoughts Melissa was having, Sophia made her way to her room and returned to studying. The clock's hands showed that it was past midnight, yet she continued to read as if her life depended on it.

The night passed and a new day came. Melissa watched as the girl who barely closed her eyes to sleep left for school in the morning. After school, Sophia went to a foreign language course and then a piano lesson. When she returned home at night, the little child, who scratched her skin under the sleeve of her clothes to stay awake, took another test.

Even though her result was almost perfect, that didn't stop the physical abuse from happening again. And without being able to interfere, Melissa just watched the cycle repeat itself.

At eight years old, the girl had to become an etiquette expert. 

At nine, she had to learn about business management. 

At the age of ten, the girl had to become fluent in six languages.

Her body obviously couldn't take the strain. Melissa noted the many times the girl secretly vomited all the contents of her stomach and the times she had to endure colds and sickness on her own.

Like the incessant ticking of a broken clock, Sophia's days went by, but nothing changed.

(Will one of them come home today?)

Once again, she is waiting...

Trapped like a spectator, Melissa knew very well what Sophia was doing. She'd seen it a hundred times.

The time was dawn. On days when the maid was away and Sophia couldn't sleep, she would sit in the doorway and wait for any of her parents to return.

They say that if something is done repeatedly, anything can become possible, but no matter how long or how many times she waited, none of them would return, no matter how much she wished they would.

Still sitting on the sofa and staring at the front door, the sound of a ringing phone caught her attention.

Getting up to investigate, she realized the sound was coming from the second floor. When Sophia checked which room it was, she saw it was her parents' bedroom.

(Should I answer it?)

For a call to reach their home phone directly, it meant they couldn’t get in touch with either of her parents' cell phones. The home number was private; it had to be someone trustworthy to have it, so it must be important.

(If it’s urgent, I should at least check.)

Carefully, Sophia opened the bedroom door. Although this was a house where she and her parents had lived for over fifteen years, there were no personal belongings or photos to show that anyone slept there. The only reason dust and dirt hadn’t taken over was because the room was cleaned daily by the housekeeper.

The ringing had stopped, but the light on the caller ID indicated that a message had been recorded. Reluctantly, she approached, and the message began to play as soon as Sophia pressed the button.

“Good evening Mr. Lantana, we tried a few more times, but unfortunately the complications your wife presented during her first delivery didn't respond well to the treatment. The internal scars from the postpartum hemorrhage have healed, but she's still in a condition that prevents her from having any more children-”

Sophia tapped the button to end the message abruptly.

“Haha”

Her knees fell to the floor and her hand grabbed her silver hair.

“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

She laughed.

Sophia laughed at the top of her lungs as tears streamed from her eyes. Her forehead bumped against the luxurious carpet as she continued to laugh.

She was made to be replaced, she always knew that.

Her parents wanted a male heir to succeed in the company. She was plan B. The one who would be discarded as soon as her parents got the son they had always wanted.

If she didn't succeed, there would be no place for her in the family. No, she knew that thinking was wrong.

(By the time I was born, I had no place in this family)

She should have been born a man.

They wanted her to be born a man.

Her father's love for her mother was the only reason he didn't have a concubine to beget other heirs. That same love was not directed at Sophia.

(I'm unwanted)

As she laughed endlessly through tearful sobs, Sophia felt guilty.

Her guilt was not because she had been born a woman. Regret or feel sorrow would do no good. Sophia didn't choose to be born.

In her view, the guilt she felt was far worse than anything else.

Melissa knew why.

She is cursing herself for being happy that she wouldn't be abandoned because her mother couldn't have another child.

Melissa felt her chest tighten bitterly and she just wanted to shrink away at that moment. Having her heart pierced by a thousand knives or facing an army of monsters would be better than helplessly watching someone realize that everything they do in life will be in vain.

Sophia didn't leave her room that night. The girl, who couldn't stand it any longer, just collapsed on the bedroom floor until her alarm clock woke her up.

Her watery eyes opened and she looked at the reminder on her cell phone.

She had never achieved anything and perhaps never will. Sophia cried all night and slept on the cold floor, yet to all those who monitored her every day none of this mattered. She knew how terrible her punishment would be if she didn't fulfill her duties.

Dressed perfectly in her uniform and wearing a thick layer of make-up to hide her dark circles, she got into the private car that always arrived at exactly the same time.

Melissa knew that as the girl who got the highest mark in the entrance exam, she would be the one to give the freshman speech in front of the whole school.

Finally, the day arrived.

This was the time when Sophia Lantana encountered Melissa Cosmos.