The Thorns Beneath the Piano Keys
Language: en
After being adopted by a wealthy family, my three older brothers hated me. When I performed in front of a crowd, my fingers were pierced by needles hidden under the piano keys. As blood poured from my hands, they stood in the crowd, watching with cold indifference. But in the middle of the night, someone slipped into my bed to secretly bandage my wounds. I called out softly, "Brother." His fingers tightened, roughly bruising my lips. He gritted his teeth and demanded: "Do you even know which brother I am before you call out?" I lowered my eyes and stayed silent. It didn't matter…