Chapter 3

Lisa sneered, "You think that because you saved me, Mom and Dad should revolve around you."

I closed my book and stared at her self‑righteous face. "I never thought that."

She let out a small, mocking laugh. "Sure, Naomi, you pushed me out of the way and became disabled, but you should be grateful you were born into this family.

"If you were in any ordinary family, they wouldn't even have the money to send you to a top rehab clinic. You've been a burden to Mom and Dad, and they've never once complained. What else could you possibly ask for?"

My hands tightened on the armrests as I stared into her unapologetic eyes.

So, after everything I had sacrificed for her, this was how they saw it. In their eyes, tolerating me was a favor.

"Lisa, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't even be standing here talking right now."

Just then, Mom came out of the kitchen carrying a fruit platter, her face dark with anger. "Naomi, how can you talk to your sister like that?"

Dad followed behind her, his brow deeply furrowed.

Lisa's eyes brimmed with tears as she retreated to Mom's side. "Mom, I just wanted to share the joy of winning with Naomi, but she said I didn't deserve to be standing here."

Mom's expression hardened as she slammed the fruit platter onto the table.

She pointed at me, her voice stern. "Lisa finally won an award today. Do you really have to ruin it for her?"

Dad walked over, disappointment written all over his face. "Naomi, we know you're frustrated because of your legs, but you can't keep taking it out on your sister. Can't you just give her a break?"

I looked at the three of them standing together against me. All the hurt I'd carried for so long finally came pouring out.

"Give her a break?" I stared at them, tears falling uncontrollably onto the back of my hand. "I gave her my legs. What more do you want from me?"

Mom frowned, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face.

"You're bringing that up again? You chose to save her! We've spent more than enough money on your medical care over the years. What more do you want from us? The way you keep score over everything really breaks my heart."

I turned to her. My chest felt like it was being ripped apart. "My legs, my life... Can money buy any of that back?"

Dad's expression hardened, his eyes sharp. "When did you become so bitter and spiteful? We don't owe you anything! You're being completely unreasonable!"

I looked at their indignant faces and couldn't help but find it absurd.

So this was how they saw it. To them, losing my legs was nothing more than the price of saving Lisa. I had saved her life, yet all they could see was how much money they'd spent on me.

After that argument, Mom and Dad completely lost patience with me.

They decided that I was too emotionally unstable and would interfere with Lisa's preparations for her upcoming national tour.

To make sure nothing went wrong, Dad wheeled me into another room at the very back of the first floor. It had once been my room.

"Stay in here and think about what you've done. You can come out when you've finally come to your senses." He ignored my protests, parked the wheelchair in the corner, and locked the door.

The room was dark and cramped, with nothing but a narrow bed, a nightstand, and a small vent.

I felt around for my phone to call for help, only to realize that Mom had taken it from me. I remembered what she'd said. "Stop posting all that negative stuff online. Lisa is a public figure now. We can't have any negative publicity."

I sat in my wheelchair, trapped in that cramped little space. I tried pounding on the door with the palm of my hand. "Let me out!"

But there was no response. They really intended to keep me locked away, hidden from everyone like a burden they were ashamed of.

I didn't know how many days I had been locked up. I couldn't tell day from night anymore.

Every so often, the door would crack open. A simple meal would be left on the floor. Sometimes it was leftovers. Other times, it was nothing more than some hastily prepared salad. No one spoke to me. Whoever brought the food would just set it down and leave.

I stared at the food on the floor, my stomach churning with nausea.

So this was my family. So much for all the promises they had made to me.

I gripped the armrests of my wheelchair and slowly made my way to the bed. Then I pulled open the drawer of the nightstand.

Inside were the strong sleeping pills a doctor had prescribed for me when nerve pain kept me awake at night.