-quality clothes the assistant had provided. Looking in the mirror, she saw a stranger. The reflec

evenge was a clean

ous, leaving no room for argument. She ordered him to pack every single item from her room

id demeanor, was so taken aback b

on, she was pulling up to the gates of the place she

tside. She wouldn't set fo

oard boxes outside the gate and had retreat

the sum total of her twenty years: cheap clothes, old

out, holding it t

es to an abandoned groundskeepe

tal. She looked at the items that represented her past, a past filled with humi

old t-shirt and tossed

ly, greedily consuming

t the hell a

nd brother, Bronson Warren, was storming

standing there unharmed. His

!" he roared. From a hook on the shed wa

ronson had used tha

uel smile twisting his l

. She didn't retreat. As the whip slic

ing around the very tip of the leat

He couldn't comprehend

lance, making him stumble forward. In the same motion,

n, his grip on th

motion. The whip cracked, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet eve

ppeared. Bronson screamed, a

ed at him, her eyes devoid of any emotion. "Tha

rity. "From this day on, I am no longer Azaria Wa

ronson's venomous glare and the rising flames. She walked a