Chapter 397: A Complete Break

Gregory Lawson had always been the family’s little emperor. Spoiled by everyone, he was used to lording it over them at home. Whenever he was the slightest bit displeased, he would beat and kick his sister, Joyce Lawson.

This time, however, Joyce refused to indulge him. Without a moment’s hesitation, she shot her hand out and caught Gregory’s fists as they rained down on her.

Then, she lifted her leg and, with all her might, kicked Gregory away as if he were a soccer ball!

Gregory’s body flipped backward, rolled once across the floor, and then slammed heavily onto the ground.

Drake Lowell had already broken Gregory’s ribs with a kick. Now, after being kicked again by Joyce, the new injury piled onto the old. He instantly coughed up another mouthful of blood!

Yvonne York’s pupils contracted at the sight. She scrambled over, cradling Gregory’s body, and cried out anxiously, "Son! Son, are you all right?!"

A searing, tearing pain shot through his chest. Gregory’s young face was completely contorted in agony, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

He clutched Yvonne York’s hand and stammered, "...Mom... I-it hurts so much... You... you have to kill that worthless bitch Joyce for me..."

Yvonne York’s heart ached as she looked at her precious son’s pale face.

She lifted her head and glared furiously at Joyce Lawson, roaring, "Joyce Lawson! How could you do that to Gregory? He’s your own brother! You—you’re so vicious! Is that any way for a sister to behave?!"

Faced with Yvonne York’s rage, Joyce Lawson just sneered and said coolly, "He doesn’t treat me like his sister. So why should I acknowledge him as my brother?"

’What kind of brother constantly beats and kicks his sister, calling her "worthless baggage" with every other breath?’

’Since Gregory Lawson didn’t treat her like a sister, she certainly wasn’t going to acknowledge him as her brother.’

Yvonne York’s expression didn’t change. Her face still contorted with rage, she demanded, "He’s just young and immature! He doesn’t know any better! You’re the adult, can’t you just let it go?!"

Joyce lowered her gaze and said coldly, "He’s not that young. When I was his age, I was already cooking for the entire family. Since Gregory doesn’t treat me like a sister, I won’t treat him like a brother. Mom, you’d better keep him in line."

The implication was clear: if Yvonne York couldn’t control Gregory, Joyce wouldn’t show him any mercy.

Yvonne York’s face turned pale. She shook her head, her eyes filled with disappointment as she looked at Joyce. "Joyce, how... how did you become like this? You’ve disappointed me so much... Since you won’t acknowledge him as your brother, then... then you might as well not acknowledge me as your mother, either!"

In the past, whenever Yvonne said that, Joyce would immediately lower her head and apologize.

But this time, Joyce just let out a cold laugh. Her sharp gaze locked onto Yvonne’s eyes as she said in a heavy tone, "...Have you ever really treated me like a daughter? When those two thugs broke in earlier, weren’t you the one who offered to let them take me away? ...Surely you haven’t forgotten?"

The moment Joyce finished speaking, Yvonne’s eyes flew wide in disbelief. She couldn’t believe her always gentle and obedient daughter would actually speak to her that way.

Yvonne stared at Joyce blankly for a moment, then guiltily averted her gaze, unable to meet her daughter’s eyes.

But she still tried to defend herself stubbornly. "...I-I had no choice! At the time... at the time, they were threatening to kill your brother! What else was I supposed to do...?"

Before Yvonne could finish, Joyce let out a sudden, self-deprecating laugh.

’Of course,’ she thought. ’In my mother’s heart, only my brother, Gregory, is important. I’m the one who can be discarded at any time.’

Joyce touched the taser in her pocket. As she watched her mother and brother clinging to each other, she felt a wave of conflict.

She suddenly remembered that before Gregory was born, Yvonne had actually been very good to her.

Back then, her paternal grandparents had blamed Yvonne for failing to produce a son and scorned Joyce as a worthless mouth to feed. They often withheld food from mother and daughter, and Joyce was frequently so hungry she felt like her stomach was stuck to her spine.

It was Yvonne who secretly sold her own gold jewelry to buy Joyce tasty things to eat.

Once, when Joyce was sick with a high fever that wouldn’t break, her grandparents had said, "She’s just a girl. If she dies, she dies. Taking her to the hospital would be a waste of money."

Back then, it was also Yvonne who, against everyone’s wishes, had stolen money from the family, carried Joyce on her back for several kilometers along mountain roads, and rushed to the county hospital to see a doctor.

But after Gregory was born, everything changed...

At this thought, Joyce sighed internally and relaxed her tight grip on the taser.

She looked down at Yvonne and said calmly, "Enough of this useless talk. Since none of you want to acknowledge me... you can all move out after this blizzard is over."

Yvonne’s head snapped up, her face a mask of shock. "Wh-what did you say?!" she blurted out. "You’re kicking us out?!"

Joyce didn’t answer, merely staring at her with a cold, silent expression.

Yvonne shook her head in disbelief. She stared at Joyce and murmured, "I’m your own mother... How... how can you abandon your own mother..."

With that, as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice imaginable, she clutched Gregory and began to sob.

But Joyce only replied, "Cut the act. From the moment you threw me to those thugs, there was nothing left for us to talk about."

’If it weren’t for the memory of that little bit of kindness Yvonne had shown her in the past, Joyce would want to take the entire family down with her right now.’

Seeing Yvonne weeping uncontrollably, Joyce rolled her eyes and paid her no further mind.

After such a tumultuous night, she was exhausted.

Now that the three robbers were dead and the supplies were recovered, she could finally get some rest.

The blizzard was still raging outside. She had to be well-rested to survive it.

So Joyce climbed into bed. She took the thickest blanket, the one Gregory usually used, and wrapped it around herself. Then she grabbed her father, Mason Lawson’s, blanket and layered it on top. Her voice muffled, she said, "That’s enough. I’m going to sleep. If you want to cry, do it outside. Don’t bother me!"

Normally, seeing Joyce’s attitude, Yvonne would have certainly thrown a tearful tantrum and clung to her.

But now, perhaps because her husband and mother-in-law were both dead and she had lost her pillars of support, or perhaps because she knew she was in the wrong after what had just happened, Yvonne didn’t dare make a scene in the face of Joyce’s unyielding stance.

She glanced down at her precious son, Gregory, who was grimacing in her arms, gritted her teeth, and said in the steadiest voice she could manage, "...Joyce, don’t sleep yet! Your brother is spitting up blood. He must have internal injuries! You’re a doctor, you have to take a look at him!"

Joyce didn’t move a muscle. Her muffled voice replied, "He can run, jump, and still throw a punch. That means he’s fine! I’m tired. I’m going to sleep. Everything else can wait until tomorrow!"

Without another word to the mother and son, Joyce reached up and switched off the room’s light.

Yvonne, left with no choice, had to help Gregory up and feel her way into the living room in the dark.

She rummaged through a cabinet in the living room, found a few painkillers, and carefully fed them to Gregory.

It was impossible to get to a hospital in these conditions. It was only because Joyce was a doctor who worked in one that they even had these few painkillers in the house.

After taking the medicine, Gregory slowly started to feel a bit better.

He grabbed Yvonne’s hand, resentful and aggrieved. "Mom... that bitch actually dared to hit me... You... you have to help me kill her!..."