The Last Smile

As the black sedan's tires crushed the plane tree leaves beneath them, I knew—there was no way out. Two men in black suits gripped my arms, their strength enough to crush bones. They were sent by my father, Zion Lincoln, claiming they were bringing me back to the Lincolns for a welcome banquet. I watched the streets blur past the car window, that same cold chill I felt when abandoned at the orphanage gate ten years ago crawling back down my spine. The gates of the Lincoln mansion stood wide open, the crystal chandeliers glaring so brightly they stung my eyes. The living room held a long dining table, set with silverware so polished it mirrored the reflections of those nearby. Just as I was about to walk over to the empty seat, a white poodle blocked my path. It clutched a bone, sprawled across the chair, its tail wagging with a smug pride. "Well, well, who's back? Oh, it's my sister Jasmine." Scarlett Lincoln descended the stairs, dressed in a pink dress, leash in hand. She bent down to stroke the poodle's head, her voice laced with mockery. "Kiki's quite fond of this spot. I think you won't mind standing for a while, will you?" I didn't say a word, just fixed my gaze on her. The venom in her eyes was exactly the same as it had been ten years ago. Once the banquet started, Scarlett approached me, glass of wine in hand. "Since you are just back; let's spice things up with a game." She swirled the wine in her glass, the liquid tracing lazy arcs along the rim. "Let's play Truth or Dare. I ask, you answer. If you can't, you drink this glass." Before I could say a word, she cut me off with her first question. "Why were you standing outside the orphanage when you were six?" I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I've waited ten years to hear that question. Scarlett didn't even wait for my answer—she just started laughing to herself. "Oh, it's me! I tricked you into coming out." "And I told you there were rabbits in the backyard, so you followed me running—and before you knew it, we were near the orphanage." "I watched you cry, searching for Mom. It made me so damn happy." Her words stabbed into my heart like needles. Everyone around kept their heads down—no one dared to speak. My father, Zion Lincoln, held his wine glass, pretending not to hear a thing. And my mother, Sherry Fox, clutched a handkerchief, dabbing away tears that didn't exist. Scarlett lifted another glass of wine and slid it across to me. "Second question: why did your grades suddenly plummet in high school, and why were you always getting cornered in alleys?" I raised my head, locking eyes with her. Those pitch-black days of high school—I'll never forget them for as long as I live. Every day after class, I was ambushed in alleys, beaten up, my textbooks shredded, my homework tossed into the trash. I thought it was just bad luck, until today—when the truth finally came to light. "I hired them." Scarlett smiled even more smugly. "Because you always ace every exam, get all the praise from the teachers, and have mom and dad constantly talking about you." "I just want to make your life miserable, to make sure you never catch up to me." I felt blood rush straight to my head. But I held back—I knew the time wasn't right yet. Scarlett poured herself another glass of wine; this time, her eyes gleamed with venom. "Third question: last year on the Christmas Eve, who arranged the car accident that hit your adoptive parents?" That sentence struck me like a thunderclap, making my head buzz. My adoptive parents are the closest people I have in this world. They took me from the orphanage, bought me new clothes, and cooked my favorite dishes. They said I was their own child. But last Christmas Eve, they drove me out for a trip and were hit by a big truck on the road. The police said it was an accident, but I never believed it. Now, Scarlett has finally revealed the truth. "It was me who hired someone to do it." Her voice was soft, yet it pierced my heart like a knife. "Oh, the reason is I don't like them treating you like a treasure. And don't forget that you're one of the Lincolns!" "They're dead, and now you have no choice but to come back to the Lincolns—where you'll only be at my mercy." I stared at Scarlett's twisted face, then glanced at my parents standing beside her, utterly indifferent. A cold shiver crawled up from the soles of my feet. At that moment, Macaulay Cosby, sitting next to me, suddenly clutched his stomach, his face draining of color. He was the nephew of my adoptive parents, and also my adoptive brother. This time, he had accompanied me to the Lincolns; he said he was here to protect me. "Macaulay, what's wrong?" I caught him, my hand brushing against his clothes, drenched in cold sweat. Macaulay parted his lips, trying to speak, but coughed up a mouthful of blood. The blood dropped onto the white tablecloth like a dark, vivid flower. "Macaulay!" I screamed, but he was already lifeless. Chaos erupted instantly in the living room. Scarlett recoiled in terror, the wine glass slipping from her hand and shattering on the floor. Zion stood up, trembling as he pointed at me. "It's you. You killed him!" Sherry screamed, "You curse, are you trying to kill our entire family?" I slowly stood up, wiping the tears from my face. I stared at the panicked Lincoln family of three, a cold smile curling at the corner of my lips. "It wasn't me who killed him." "It was you." "I poisoned every dish on this table tonight." "Macaulay was only the first." The living room plunged into deadly silence. Zion and Sherry's faces turned as pale as Macaulay's. Scarlett collapsed to the floor, her eyes wide with sheer terror. I looked at them with not a flicker of pity in my heart. This is only the beginning. I'll make them pay dearly for what they've done.