“How could I have a daughter like you? What a disgrace to the family! What a disgrace!”
The middle-aged man’s facial muscles trembled as he clenched his fists and waved his arms exaggeratedly. His bushy mustache twitched on both sides, shaking with the intensity of his voice.
Behind the iron bars, Flora’s little head buzzed, her brain going completely blank from the extreme urge to escape.
Under powerful psychological suggestion, her father’s roars, her mother’s sobs, the clanging of the iron door, the whirring of the fan, the harsh friction of rubber boot soles grinding against the floor—everything twisted and blurred, receding like the tide, growing farther and farther away until it became distant waves crashing on the shore.
“Listen up, we’re cutting ties with you! You’ve ruined this family!”
But the good times didn’t last. This sentence pierced Flora’s heart like a blade, twisting viciously and inflicting real damage.
Flora slumped in her chair, her mouth opening and closing silently, like a dehydrated fish rolling her eyes.
“Breathe, don’t forget to breathe.”
Ashley lightly patted the golden-haired loli’s back until she let out a long, trembling gasp.
The gasps wouldn’t stop, one after another. Her thin, frail body shuddered and spasmed, like a small animal struggling in its death throes. Each arch of her back highlighted the shape of her spine.
Ashley said nothing more, only sighing inwardly that lolis weren’t all the same. No matter what happened, she never fell apart like this—her heart was as hard as stone.
Aubrey Doma wasn’t as angry as he appeared. Inwardly, he meticulously calculated his interests, preparing to completely sever ties with his daughter, who had lost her utility and now only brought losses.
The money he’d earned in the past two years was enough for a worry-free life for the rest of his days.
Next, he planned to move out of the Saint Dormer Community, away from the public eye. His plan was to buy a small farm in the countryside, hire some tenants and servants, and live a idyllic rural life.
If misfortune struck and his fortune scattered, he could still publish a memoir for one last payout. He’d even thought of the title: Angel? Devil? Flora’s Double Life.
The man and woman gradually walked away. Flora didn’t dare look up. Her small body shook violently, her heartstrings stretching taut with their fading footsteps until they snapped… Finally, she burst into loud wails.
Ashley comforted her for a long time, but the golden-haired loli kept crying and crying. Finally, she couldn’t help but complain softly:
“You sure have a lot of water in you—you can still squeeze out tears?”
It reminded her of a false advertisement from her previous life: slicing open an orange, and juice sprays out like turning on a faucet.
“Shi Shi… I still have you… right?”
Flora’s tone carried the fear of someone desperate for any lifeline, clutching Ashley’s clothes like a drowning person grasping driftwood—but not too tightly, afraid of angering her and being abandoned.
“Don’t act like you’ll die without someone. For you, you’re the most important.” Ashley said sternly, her face straight.
Hmph, what a troublesome one.
Though she grumbled inwardly, the little one in her arms was soft and warm, exuding a pleasant aura.
“Let’s go, back together.”
“I… I don’t want to go back… I went from little teacher to prisoner… How am I supposed to face those people? They’ll laugh at me… jeer at me…” Flora’s fingers clenched until her knuckles turned white, her voice choking.
“Just hide behind me, like a snail in its shell. I’ll be your shell—they can’t hurt you.”
“Wahhh… Shi Shi… You’re too good to me…”
The loli craned her slender neck, her pale golden soft hair draping loosely over her delicate shoulders and collarbones. Her red, swollen eyes from crying made her nose, lips, and chin look even more delicate and petite, like a beautiful little bird.
However, Ashley stood with hands on hips in a heroic pose, more like the proactive snail, while Flora clinging to her was the shell.
Ashley and Flora walked down the streets of the Saint Dormer Community, causing a huge stir.
Residents stopped in front of their houses, casting astonished glances and whispering to each other about that day’s case.
Juvenile delinquents who caught wind of it jeered gleefully, swaying exaggeratedly by the roadside, fingers in mouths whistling at the two.
Juvenile delinquents’ thought processes weren’t like normal people’s.
“That Onna guy, I never liked him anyway—good that he’s dead!”
“Little teacher did what we wanted to do but didn’t dare.”
“Hey, little teacher, did that guy drop gold coins when he died?”
“Little teacher! If it had been me that day, would you have taken me out?”
…
Flora’s little face paled. She hugged Ashley like a koala, burying her face in the loose, soft pale blue hair tips, not daring to look at the road, following step by step.
With her eyes squeezed shut, her sense of smell sharpened—the mix of lavender shampoo and natural faint milky scent filled her nostrils, bringing immense comfort.
Perhaps this wasn’t so bad after all, not the world-ending catastrophe she’d imagined. Or maybe it was terrible, but it didn’t matter—as long as she held this person, she feared nothing.
The delinquents’ residence was a wooden building where dampness seeped up from the ground, clusters of ferns and wild mint growing, dark greenish-black moss creeping at the base like it wanted to swallow the whole structure.
The building had four floors, sixteen rooms per floor.
To prevent psychologically unstable ones from stabbing roommates, everyone lived alone, with locks and door stops. Male and female dorms were separated, and the warden patrolled after midnight.
Because Ashley had a “deal” with the Trial Judge, the two lolis were specially approved to room together.
Room A17.
“Shi Shi’s place…”
The golden-haired loli’s mood had stabilized a bit.
Like a cat entering unfamiliar territory, she cautiously turned her little head, looking around.
Once inside, with sound and light blocked by walls and windows, the atmosphere was dimly serene—a narrow, safe space for a wounded animal to lick its wounds.
To her slight disappointment, Ashley had no personal belongings. The bedsheets, quilts, clothes, and daily items were all community-issued. Her wish to learn more about her fell flat.
When Ashley had been sent here, she’d only carried a small pouch with a few coins and buttons. Not long after, that incident happened.
“From now on, this is our home.”
Ashley stood in the passageway, arms spread wide—but with walls less than three meters apart, she smiled sheepishly and turned back:
“It’s a bit small, but it’ll be warm cuddling together when it’s cold.”
Home.
A familiar yet strange word. Hearing it from Ashley’s mouth was like striking a match in her mind, illuminating Flora’s gloomy heart. Tears welled hotly in her eyes.
After settling Flora, Ashley put on her jacket and asked:
“I’m heading out for a bit. You okay alone?”
“W-where are you going?” Flora asked timidly.
“To see a troublesome one.” Ashley jiggled the silver bracelet on her fair wrist.
For crimes like shooting down the Trial Judge, harboring a criminal and fabricating evidence, contempt of court, and more—compounded sentences—Ashley’s control level had risen.
Specifically, weekly psych evaluations and an electronic wristband were added.
And the one doing her psych evals was the Trial Judge’s apprentice—Amber Abbey.
—
“An, your friend is here!” Her mother’s voice rang from outside.
“Who?”
“A blue-haired girl.”
“Uh… she’s not my friend; she’s a delinquent here for a psych eval… Mom, be careful around her, she steals stuff from homes… Hey? Don’t prepare a fruit platter, Mom!”
“Get along well with your friends.” The woman said with a smile.
“I said she’s not a friend!” Amber huffed.
Thud thud thud—Amber clomped down the spiral wooden stairs, pulling on her small Tribunal windbreaker. She hadn’t even put on pants, just letting the coat’s hem cover her slender white legs.
Ashley wore a donated, washed-out old hoodie with pilling, brown-and-white checkered socks, and square-toed little leather shoes—very casual.
She leaned against the door, hands tucked into sleeves, then hugged them to her chest like a cat.
Her gaze shifted to see the identical bracelet on Amber’s wrist.
“Can’t you call or send a little blue strip before coming?” Amber pouted, annoyed.
Ashley raised her wrist over her head, pointing at the bracelet, and asked:
“What’s this for? Does it explode? Shock you? Why are you wearing one too?”
“It doesn’t have that many functions—though I’d love to zap you with it. Unfortunately, it only has ‘out-of-range alarm.’ Hmph.” Amber turned her head, humming regretfully.
“No way,” Ashley said warily, “what if it fries my clever little brain? Then I’d only have my looks left.”
