تسجيل الدخول"You monster! You disgusting monster!"Mom lunged at Betty without any restraint, ripping out a chunk of her hair, tearing away a patch of scalp with it.Even knowing the truth now, there was nothing Mom could do about it: Betty had drained my blood at home, in private, and Mom had no proof, no way to clear her own name.After Mom was sentenced, Dad finally came back. He visited her in prison, cursing under his breath the whole time."This is all your fault. You never treated Zoey right, and now I'm the one paying for it. That precious daughter you gave birth to turned out to be a monster."I trailed behind him and watched Betty grow even more vicious than before. She threatened Dad that if he didn't obey her every word, she'd do to him exactly what she'd done to Mom.Dad had no choice but to become her loyal servant.That arrangement lasted two full years, until Mom was released from prison.She'd grown thin and worn down. Prison hadn't been kind to her: everyone there had shu
Betty's steps were painfully slow, partly to sell her image as a fragile invalid, and partly because she was waiting for someone to save her. She needed the rescue to happen so she could scrub her own name clean and shove Mom forward as the scapegoat instead.This spot sat at the busiest part of the whole neighborhood, and by the time Betty reached the edge of the balcony, a crowd had already gathered.Everyone shouted, eyes red."You're carrying your sister's blood in your veins. You should live, and go see the world she never got to.""That's right, this is all your mother's fault. None of it is on you. You're sick. There was nothing you could do."Nothing draws sympathy like weakness, and Betty's little performance worked beautifully.She swayed on her feet, looking ready to throw herself off without a second thought.A group of well-meaning strangers rushed toward her and pulled her back from the railing just in time.Betty slapped herself across the face, again and again,
Most people couldn't wrap their heads around it: how could any mother have a child just to keep another daughter alive?It sounded cruel. It went against basic decency. It had no morals in it at all.What makes a person human is the ability to think, to hold a moral line, to treat life with the reverence it deserves.Mom paced in circles inside the hospital director's office, frantic, while even Betty sat there with her eyes lowered, cold and calculating.I imagined she must have been furious with herself in that moment, furious that she hadn't been careful enough, that the truth had gotten out and dragged her name through the mud too.The director looked out at the grief-stricken crowd and finally stepped outside, out of options.The last look he gave Mom carried both disappointment and resolve. It was clear she was about to be cut loose: her career here was over.Sure enough, standing in front of the crowd, the director announced, "This is the hospital's failure, and it's my f
The nurse, though, held her chin up stubbornly. She looked up at the sky, half laughing, half crying."What goes around comes around. You'll get what's coming to you. And Betty, what a joke, calling herself a sister. I saw it with my own eyes, her jabbing needles into Zoey. That vicious look on her face was nothing like the one she's wearing now. Just wait. Heaven doesn't spare anyone."The incident she meant had happened a while back. Betty had suffered one of her episodes, and I'd been rushed to the hospital to give her a transfusion.Once she'd stabilized, our parents went out to buy her food, leaving me abandoned on a hospital bed, forgotten.I'd lost so much blood I couldn't even sit up, could only lie there helplessly, my head spinning, my eyes open.By then, Betty had already recovered. She walked toward me with an innocent smile on her face, a silver needle catching the light in her hand.Wave after wave of pain tore through me while Betty laughed like she'd lost her mind
Dad wiped at the corner of his eye, brushing away tears that weren't actually there. He looked devastated, but I understood better than anyone that he couldn't have cried a real tear if he'd tried. His performance wasn't even convincing.In the end, all that remained of me was a small box of ashes. A whole person, reduced to something that size.Mom's hands shook slightly. She let out a sigh, then carried my ashes home.Betty only learned the news the next day, through her phone.Mom held a funeral for me, small and quiet, almost secretive.She was probably afraid someone would ask how I'd died, or blame Betty for taking my life.But some people show up whether they're invited or not. The nurse arrived carrying a grim funeral portrait and planted herself at the service without a shred of hesitation.Her words came out sharp and deliberate."Your daughter is dead, and you only invited a handful of people? Are you feeling guilty? Or scared? What exactly are you afraid of? It's be
Mom flinched, clapping a hand over her mouth as fat tears rolled down her face.Dad reached for me with trembling hands, then jerked back the instant his fingers touched my cold skin.The nurse laughed, suddenly."What are you two so afraid of? Isn't this exactly what you wanted?"She'd said the exact words I'd wanted to say myself. They really had no right to grieve, because this was exactly what they'd wished for.The nurse pulled the sheet all the way back, exposing every scar on my body, scars my own parents had put there, along with countless needle marks left behind from years of blood drawn for Betty."I've never seen a body with this many scars in my life. You had her so she could save your other daughter's life, but she was still a human being. Why couldn't you love her, even a little?"That was it exactly. Why couldn't they have loved me, even a little?I hadn't asked for much. Just a little. Just a scrap of affection. Was that really so hard?Mom's whole body shook







