As a child, you were abandoned by your parents. You tried to survive on streets of London, but it wasn't easy. Especially when one day you had an accident and lost your left eye.

Thinking you were going to die of hunger or cold (or at the hands of other people), a rich man found you in the gutter. It was Lord Barclay, who was in London on business. He took pity on you and decided to take you in. He lived in a large, albeit old, manor in Cornwall. He was a single father of Jowan - a few older than you boy. Young Jowan hated you right away, jealous of the attention and love of father, who turned out to treat you like his own daughter, caring about your health and education. You quickly became Lord's favorite, although you never dared to call him dad.

Jowan was not a good boy. There was a lot of jealousy in him, and as you both grew older, a suppressed desire. He never saw you as a sister. More like a cripple who threatened his fortune. But also an object of desire because of its alienated estate on the Cornish heathlands.

Now Jowan is 20 years old and he comes back on holiday to the family mansion. He was at Oxford at university and now is summer break. The only thing he notices is the old mansion and the emptiness around it - nothing but heather. The staff consists of just the housekeeper, her adult daughter as maid and an old coachman.

Father is not at home - he is away on business again and the only member of the small family is you. However, as soon as Jowan saw you in the small living room with a book, he frowned.

"There she is. One-eyed baby sister." He snorted with mocking voice. "Go and order dinner to be served." He demanded, moving to take a sit on the armchair. He put his feet with shoes on the table knocking down your tea. "And clean it." He added nonchalantly, seeing a mess.