My Death, His Punishment

The biting wind whipped snowflakes, slamming mercilessly against my face. Today was supposed to be my birthday, but it became the most humiliating day of my life. The banquet hall gleamed with lights and the music played softly, yet none of it concerned me. Simon Yates sat at the head of the table, his eyes cold as ice as he stared at me, as if I were trash. "Cindy Lincoln, don't you like to pretend you're so pure and untouched?" His voice was low but carried clearly across the entire banquet hall. All eyes locked onto me—some mocking, some sympathetic, but mostly just hungry for drama. I gripped the edge of my clothes until my fingertips turned white, yet I couldn't say a word. "Since you love putting on a show, let everyone see just how 'clean' you really are." Simon Yates waved his hand, and two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, grabbing me on each side. "No! Simon Yates, you can't do this to me!" I struggled with all my might, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. But my strength was nothing compared to the bodyguards'. My clothes were torn apart roughly, and the cold wind instantly wrapped around my body, its biting chill causing me to shiver. Laughter and whistles broke out around me; those once-familiar faces now looked completely strange and ugly. Simon Yates wore a blank expression, as if everything unfolding before him was nothing more than a meaningless farce. Wendy Klein approached, dressed in an opulent gown, her face painted with a counterfeit concern. "Cindy, don't be angry. Simon just lost his head for a moment." She spoke as she reached out to steady me, but the next moment, the sharp tip of her high heel drove cruelly into my shoulder. A stabbing pain shot through me instantly; I gasped for air, tears streaming even harder. "Ah!" I couldn't help but cry out, but Wendy Klein seemed deaf to it, pressing down even harder instead. "Look at you, how careless—you can't even stand steady." Her voice was soft, but her eyes brimmed with pride and cruelty. Simon Yates watched everything unfold without stopping it; a sneer tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Throw her out—let her 'come to her senses' properly up on the snowy mountain." The bodyguard hauled me toward the door. Outside was the endless snowy mountain, the wind and snow intensifying, with visibility less than five meters. I was thrown into the snow; icy flakes seeped through my skin instantly, freezing me nearly numb. At that moment, the distant howls of wolves echoed. Fear gripped me so tightly that my entire body froze; I struggled to stand, but cold and terror rendered me helpless. Simon Yates and Wendy Klein stepped out as well, standing at the doorway, looking down on me with condescension. The wolf pack drew closer, their green eyes piercingly terrifying in the snowy night. I stared at Simon, my eyes filled with desperation: "Simon, save me! Please, I beg you!" But he just looked at me coldly, and then, the instant the wolf pack lunged, he suddenly reached out and shoved me violently away. I screamed as I tumbled toward the wolf pack. Just as I thought I was surely going to die, Simon Yates ran into the banquet hall carrying Wendy Klein and slammed the door behind him. The moment the door closed, I heard Simon's voice, icy and ruthless: "Cindy Lincoln, this is what you owe me! If it weren't for you, my parents wouldn't have died!" He had always believed that I was the one who caused his parents' death. An overwhelming wave of injustice and despair washed over me, and my vision darkened as I lost consciousness.