Adira knocked on the door of her family's house, her luggages beside her on the floor. As she waited weakly for the door to get opened, she kept blinking back the tears that burnt at the back of her eyes.

The door creaked open, revealing her sixteen year old sister.

"Mum! Adira is home!" Elara said with a streak of sadism.

Since the door was wide open, Adira was able to take a peek into the house and found her family seated round the dining, having dinner. Their faces got lit up with mockery upon seeing her at the door.

"Oh... The rejected wife is finally home to her rejected family!" Her twenty-three year old step-sister hooted with laugh, pausing on the meat she had been trying to pieces into several parts.

"Dear Adira, you've finally signed the divorce papers, haven't you?" Her step-mother taunted.

Her father and step-brother just stayed quiet on the dining, throwing glances at her.

With a sniff, Adira picked up her luggages and began rolling it into the old creaky house. Her eyes were red and swollen from the tears that had been falling freely before her coming to the house.

The room was lit only by the flickering light of a solitary candle, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Stepping further into the room, her family's eyes followed her every move, watching her with suspicion and mockery. Adira couldn't help but feel like an outsider in her home.

"The nerves of you to ever think you could remain married to a powerful man like Lancelot," her drunken father muttered. "I told you, Adira, we're poor and not meant for the rich. If you had listened to me a year ago and just stayed away from him, I'm sure none of this would have happened."

"Don't say that, father. I'm definitely going to marry a rich man. I just wonder how Adira thought she could do same," Freya smirked.

At that moment, Adira wished her mother was there at that table. She had lost her mother at a very tender age, and in less than three months after her death, her father had gotten married to her step-mother who bore him three children. They always treated her like an outsider and made her wish she was never a part of them. Unfortunately, she had no other place to go.

"I'll just be in my room," she mumbled beneath her breath and turned towards the wooden staircase.

"What room are you talking about?" Freya snapped behind her. "You've been away for a year, Adira. So, I'm in charge of your room now."

Adira said nothing but continued climbing up the stairs, and her step-mother threw a spoon at her.

"Hurry up and come clear this table. You should make yourself useful around here," she gruffed, but Adira didn't stop as she continued walking.

Getting into the messy room that used to be hers, twenty-six year old Adira plonked herself on the bed and bursted into tears. Her heart ached heavily, she brushed her fingers into her hair as she cried out in pains.

Memories of how Lancelot had sent her parking from the house kept replaying in her mind

"I'm sorry, Adira, but you need to leave. Jardine plans on coming over tonight. I told you she's sick," his voice still sounded fresh in her head.

Adira had gone on her knees to beg him. The divorce papers had been lying on the floor.

"Please, Lancelot, you can't do this to me. I did nothing wrong, you can't just push me away like this," she had pleaded, clutching onto his knees.

"Yes, you did nothing wrong. And trust me, Adira, I did love you. But can't you see this isn't working out? It's been a year, yet my family still doesn't accept you. I endured a lot for you, Adira, and you know it. I believe it's best if we just moved on. Please. Here's a check of a hundred thousand dollars, this should be enough to get you started."

Adira had remembered tearing the check in front of him, letting him know she wasn't interested in the money, but was interested in him. She had continued pleading, but in the end, he sent her out, along with the divorce papers which he had asked her to sign within the week.

Adira was beyond hurt as she kept wondering how she could possibly live without Lancelot. They had known each other since they were kids and had gotten married about a year ago. God, they were so in love, she never thought a day would come that he would ever divorce her.

His parents hated her 'cause she was poor and when Lancelot had gotten married to her, his father caught him off from the company. Things became really tough for them as they had to fend for themselves. But they were doing just fine.

It all started a month ago when he started sleeping out, coming home at late hours and acting detached towards her. It didn't take long before Adira noticed he had another lover - a certain rich lady. This had broken Adira, and when she confronted him, he started talking about a divorce.

Now, there she was - broken and pregnant with his child. Even when she had told him about the early pregnancy, his cold words were: "You should get rid of it. I won't be such a great father, Adira."

His words had been like poisonous arrows that pierced her heart multiple times. She loved him so much and couldn't imagine life without him. But, now she was hurt with no one to turn to.

****†****†****†****†****†

Adira had slept deeply. She woke up the next morning to find herself on the floor. Sitting up and glancing at the bed, she found Freya on it. Huh? Did she roll her down to the floor without her notice? How dare she?

Adira got on her feet, infuriated. But seeing that Freya was still asleep, she decided to let it slide.

She got into the bathroom to freshen up, deciding she needed to go get some provisions for the family. Thankfully, she had been able to save some money while she was with Lancelot. Thinking of it, she might even move out to her own apartment - no matter how small it may be. She had expected her family to be less hostile, but sadly, they hadn't changed.

Standing under the running shower, Adira closed her eyes as she recalled all the beautiful moments she shared with Lancelot. There had been times when they showered together, and he'd end up kissing her. They made love in so many fun places, the memories were glued to her head. How could she possibly let go of him now? Wasn't it a little too late?

When she first met Lancelot at the age of nine, it was on a day he had saved her. She and Freya had gone playing at a pool. Accidentally, Adira fell into the pool while Freya ran to call for help. There weren't much people on the pool that day. So, there was no one to help.

Adira had passed out, but when she regained consciousness, she found Lancelot beside her, but he was also wet and unconscious. Adira believed he saved her - risked his life to save hers. That was how they became friends.

They shared so many beautiful moments together, she wondered how she could possibly leave without him now. It was clearly impossible.

Done from the bathroom, she stepped out with a white towel around her chest. She found something simple to wear from one of her luggages - a white pair of trousers with a blue top. Then, she brushed her long hair until it shone like black silk in the light. She let it fall around her shoulders, applied a little color to her lips and some to her eyes to conceal her redness.

Adira was a very beautiful lady - her features perfectly symmetrical with high cheekbones, full lips and large expressive eyes. Her beauty was breathtaking, like a glimpse of a rare and exquisite flower in full bloom. Her beauty had men rushing after her, but she had kept it all for Lancelot.

Ready to leave the house, she gave herself one sullen look in the mirror. The thought of work flickered across her mind. Goodness; the heartbreaking event had made her forget completely about going to work. Perhaps, she'd call her boss later in the day to explain things.

She was about leaving the room when she noticed Freya turning on the bed. She yawned loudly and opened her eyes which finally met with Adira's.

"Hey. Where are you off to?" Freya questioned, her eyes still looking dizzy.

"I don't think you should be concerned, Freya. By the way, I woke up today to find myself on the floor. Did you really roll me down?"

Freya laughed. "You're such a dumb sleeper. I did roll you down, Adira. You occupied my space."

Adira fisted her hands beside her. Deciding to let it pass, she started towards the door.

"Where're you going? To beg your ex-husband? Let the poor man be, Adira; he's never taking you back. By the way, mother wanted you to make yourself useful in the house. So, you should go on and wash the dishes."

"You must have lost your senses," Adira glowered her eyes at her before exiting the room.

As she left, she heard Freya's angry words behind her.

"Really? I've lost my senses?! Well, I wasn't the one who got divorced!"

Adira said nothing.

She climbed down the stairs, her entire body feeling so weak. Luckily, she didn't find anyone in the living room. She had been scared she'd find someone who would end up bashing her again.

She walked levelly out of the house but met a huge surprise in front of her. Adira froze immediately, her heart shooting up at the sight of the person in front of her. What?! Was she seeing clearly? What was Jardine doing at her place? The very witch that destroyed her home?