Mariam Doyle, 8 years old
When Mariam was eight years old, she was an energetic and cheerful child who rarely sat still for more than a few minutes.
Her laughter often echoed throughout the Doyle estate, and on most afternoons she could be found running around the sprawling grounds with her two closest friends, Ronan and Minghao.
That day was no different.
The three children were gathered on the lush lawn in front of the main villa, tossing a ball back and forth beneath the warm afternoon sun.
Usually, Ronan and Minghao preferred playing basketball together, but Mariam had insisted on joining them.
Neither boy had the heart to refuse her.
Mariam missed half her catches, Ronan deliberately made impossible throws to tease her and Minghao acted as the peacemaker whenever the two started arguing.
Mariam suddenly spotted a familiar figure approaching through the estate gates.
Her face immediately brightened.
She waved both arms enthusiastically.
“Meg!”
Her older sister turned at the sound of her voice.
Megan was five years older than Mariam.
Megan carried herself with a confidence that Mariam had always admired.
Seeing her little sister, she smiled and waved back.
But then Mariam noticed that Megan wasn’t alone.
A boy was walking beside her.
Mariam blinked in surprise.
Megan had never brought a boy home before, which immediately sparked her curiosity.
She squinted, trying to get a better look at him as they drew closer.
The more she looked, the more familiar he seemed.
Then, all at once, recognition struck her.
The boy wasn’t a stranger at all—he was her classmate, Jackson Walsh.
“What is your sister doing with Jackson Walsh?” Ronan whispered, leaning closer to Mariam.
“Isn’t he from the Walsh family?” Minghao asked.
All three children knew who Jackson was.
They attended the same school.
The Walshs and Doyles had been rivals for years.
They were on bad terms because both the Walsh and Doyle families wanted their companies to emerge as the leading media and communications company in the country. Read the latest chapters at g.com.
Even as children, they were aware of the tension.
Mariam pressed her lips together.
She had no answer for her friends.
Her parents had always instructed her to stay away from Jackson Walsh at school.
Whenever she saw him in the hallways, she usually avoided him like a plague.
So what was Megan doing?
As the pair approached, Mariam noticed that Megan was holding Jackson by his elbow.
The sight only deepened her confusion.
Megan stopped in front of the three children and placed a hand on her hip.
“Ronan…Minghao…” she said with a smile, “how much longer are you planning to keep my little sister occupied?”
“Just one more hour,” Ronan replied immediately, as polite as ever.
“Then we’ll head home.”
“Fine. But I need to borrow her for a little while first.” She turned toward Mariam.
“Marie, come with me.”
Mariam obediently followed her older sister.
Jackson followed alongside them.
As they walked toward the villa, Mariam’s anxiety steadily grew.
It was one thing for Megan to bring Jackson onto Doyle property, but it was another thing entirely to bring him inside the house.
Their parents certainly wouldn’t approve—or at least, Mariam didn’t think they would.
Questions swirled through her mind, but she remained silent.
She was only eight years old and had neither the courage nor the authority to challenge her older sister.
So she simply followed.
Meanwhile, Jackson remained unusually quiet.
He hadn’t said a single word since arriving at the estate.
Megan led Mariam and Jackson into the family sitting room on the first floor.
The room was empty at the moment, its cream-colored sofas and polished wooden furniture bathed in the soft light streaming through the large windows.
Megan turned to her younger sister. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
“Marie, quickly go get the first-aid box,” she said.
“Bring the bandages and antiseptic too. You remember where Mom keeps the medicines, right?”
It was then that Mariam finally understood why Megan had brought her along.
Only Mariam knew exactly where the medicines were kept because she was constantly coming home with scraped knees, bruised elbows and cuts after playing with Ronan and Minghao.
Her mother was always there to clean her wounds with antiseptic.
The house itself was enormous, with dozens of rooms spread across multiple floors.
If Megan had to search for the supplies herself, it would take far too long.
“But why do you need them?” Mariam asked curiously.
Megan shot her an incredulous look.
“Take a good look at this boy,” she said before grabbing Jackson’s wrist and pulling up the sleeve of his shirt.
Mariam gasped.
Jackson’s knuckles were split open, dried blood staining his skin.
Angry red cuts ran across the back of his hand and down his wrist, as though he had been throwing punches for quite some time.
“He got into a fight with a group of boys right outside our estate,” Megan explained.
“I found him there and brought him back.”
Earlier, Megan had witnessed several boys surrounding and scrawny-looking kid.
The sight of an older girl had been enough to send the bullies fleeing.
Seeing the kid covered in blood, she couldn’t bring herself to leave him alone outside.
Only then did Mariam take a proper and clear look at his face.
To her horror, the injuries didn’t stop at his hand.
A dark bruise was already forming along his jaw, spreading across the side of his face in shades of purple and blue.
There was also a small cut near his cheekbone that she hadn’t noticed earlier.
“Oh my God!” Her hands flew to her mouth in shock.
Jackson looked awful.
For the first time since she had seen him, Mariam felt a flicker of sympathy for him.
Without another word, she spun around and rushed toward the door.
“I’ll go get the first-aid box!”