The Contract Wife Tries to Leave - Chapter 181
Getting close to Leonid was no easy task.
The boy’s nature was inherently prickly, and he was not one to open his heart easily to anyone, not even to Josephine. He kept his guard up, even with family. It was said he had been close with his nursemaid, who had raised him until she passed away from illness when he was seven… yet imagining him warmly interacting with anyone was difficult.
‘Leonid, would you like to play chess with me?’
‘No.’
‘Then how about a card game?’
‘I don’t want to play with you. Get lost.’
Josephine persistently tried to grow closer to Leonid, but her efforts yielded little success. No matter what Josephine suggested, Leonid refused everything, always acting distant and curt.
Nevertheless, Josephine did not give up and continued to put effort into reaching Leonid for a whole month. He was simply too captivating for her to easily abandon the attempt.
Then one day, Leonid’s younger sister Kiara came up from the main residence to the townhouse.
Kiara, unlike Leonid, was warm and sociable. Everyone liked her. She had many friends her age and was good at winning over adults. Even at a young age, she had refined tastes and a keen eye. Everywhere she went, compliments for Kiara never ceased.
At some point, Josephine began to imitate Kiara. She copied everything about her—Kiara’s behavior, way of speaking, habits, hairstyle, and even her taste in clothing, completely transforming herself.
It was late summer. As Josephine appeared in a dress of the design Kiara liked, with her hair styled just like hers, Leonid blurted out.
‘Mimicking a crow, aren’t you? Do you have no taste of your own? Crow Josephine.’
Leonid was mocking Josephine by comparing her to a crow, known for its tendency to mimic people.
His words struck a part of Josephine’s heart that she had tried to hide and ignore.
Josephine glared at Leonid with wide, furious eyes, clenching her fists tightly. Heat rushed to the crown of her head, her heart pounded as if it would burst, and her fingertips trembled slightly.
Josephine dashed up to her room, almost fleeing, and wildly disheveled her hair, making a mess of it before ripping off her dress. That wasn’t enough; she grabbed a pair of scissors and tore apart not only that dress but every piece of clothing in her wardrobe.
She collapsed amidst the tattered rags, trembling as she gasped for breath.
The whirlwind of emotions refused to settle easily, and she couldn’t immediately identify what they were. Only as her mind gradually calmed did she recognize them: shame and fury.
After that, Josephine stopped imitating Kiara altogether. Instead, she desperately adorned herself with whatever was popular and admired by the majority.
Leonid openly mocked her for it, continuing to call her “Crow Josephine.” From that moment, Josephine came to despise Leonid with a hatred so intense it bordered on murderous.
Whenever she happened to see a crow, she would throw stones at the ominous black bird, trying to kill it. She’d heard rumors of crows that could mimic human speech, which sent a shiver down her spine, nearly driving her mad.
Josephine learned how to shoot. Her marksmanship was nothing remarkable, but she was good enough to kill a bird perched on a tree. Every time she saw a crow, she would shoot it, one by one, every single time.
Of course, there were days when she failed.
‘Oh my god, what do I do…?’
It was a day in the winter of her sixteenth year. A girl crouched on the ground, examining a crow that had fallen, its wing pierced by Josephine’s bullet.
The girl looked about twelve. Her face was as fair and delicate as the snow blanketing the ground, her hair the silvery shade of moonlight, and her eyes a striking teal, reminiscent of shallow southern seas.
Even in worn, poverty-scented clothes, the girl shone like a star. Josephine had never seen anything like it. A profound, inexplicable shock struck her, and she froze in place, unable to move, the gun still in her hand.
The girl gently wrapped the crow in her red scarf and rose to her feet. At that moment, she looked back, and her eyes met Josephine’s.
The girl flinched in surprise, her expression soon turning fearful. With wary glances at the gun in Josephine’s hand, she began to back away slowly. Then, in an instant, she spun around and fled.
Snowflakes drifted down over the whitewashed city, and the girl vanished into the blizzard. She never reappeared in Josephine’s life.
Or so Josephine had thought.
Back in the present, Josephine let out a quiet, bitter chuckle. At her feet lay the body of a crow she had just shot.
She gazed coldly at the wretched creature before turning away. Ghostly memories from the past drifted through her mind like phantoms.
Johanna Lucerne… No wonder she always felt a sense of disgust when she saw her. That girl back then had been Johanna Lucerne. With her unusual face, once Josephine recalled it, she was certain.
