Chapter 3

Abram's POV

Caitlyn paused for a moment before glancing coldly at me. Then, she told Adrian, "If Abram truly cared about you, he wouldn't have forced you to take the fall for the family instead."

I stood rooted to the ground, feeling my blood run cold. Mom should have already told Adrian that I was the one going to prison after all. Obviously, he never relayed the message to Caitlyn.

He just wanted her to continue misunderstanding me and hating me for it.

I remembered the wound on his wrist. In my past life, he tried slitting his own wrists at home because he didn't want to be sent to prison. Although the cut wasn't deep, it still gave Caitlyn a massive fright, and it made her want to protect him even more.

And this time, Adrian was using the same trick on her again.

"Don't say that about Abram, Cait," he said, tugging at her sleeve. His voice was choked with sobs as though he was the victim. "It's all my fault for not being useful enough to help Mom through this crisis."

"Stop saying such things, Adrian," Caitlyn said, pulling him into her arms. "Whatever crisis the Darrows are going through has nothing to do with you. The person who should be the one shouldering everything is Abram."

She then turned to me with an icy glare. "Are you happy now, Abram? Forcing Adrian to commit suicide? You're extremely pleased with what you're seeing, aren't you?"

I felt nothing but irony as I watched them. I was the one going to prison, but she didn't even care about me.

I didn't want to fight with them, so I just turned my back on them and went upstairs.

The next morning, while getting ready to turn myself in, I opened my door and saw a small first-aid kit by the door with a sticky note on it.

"Remember to treat your injuries."

It was Caitlyn's handwriting on the note. I was stunned for a moment.

This used to be an agreement between the two of us. When we were children, if either one of us made the other angry, we'd apologize to the other by giving them their favorite things. She'd slapped and punched me last night, so this was her way of apologizing to me.

But now, her apology meant nothing to me anymore.

I didn't touch the kit and went straight downstairs.

As I went down the stairs, Adrian suddenly chased after me from the back.

"Are you leaving this early, Abram?" he asked, sounding like he was trying to console me.

I stopped and turned around to look at him.

He approached me with a smug smile. "You're not coming back for at least another decade after you're gone this time. I bet the prison is nowhere near as comfortable as it is at home."

Then, he leaned close to my ear and said in a low voice that only the two of us could hear. "Maybe you'll soon be reunited with that short-lived dad of yours."

My head buzzed, my ears rang, and blood rushed straight to my head.

I grabbed him by the collar and snapped, "Adrian Darrow! I dare you to say that to me again!"

He cackled even more loudly. "What, did I hit a nerve? Your dad's just a dumb jerk who couldn't live past 40. And you take right after him!"

I trembled hard with anger and raised my fist, meaning to punch him.

Just then, he suddenly caught sight of someone downstairs. A cold smile appeared on his lips. He grabbed my hand, screamed, and yanked me down the stairs with him.

"Abram! Don't shove me! Ahh!"

The world spun around me. I landed on the ground first, and Adrian then used me as a human cushion, knocking all the breath out of me.

The back of my head hit hard against the floor, and I immediately felt an excruciating pain spreading throughout my body. Warm, sticky liquid began flowing down my neck.

My vision went blurry and black. Then, I saw a pair of high heels standing before me.

It was Caitlyn.

I mustered every ounce of strength I had left to reach out to her, whimpering weakly, "Caitlyn… S-Save me…"

However, she didn't even spare me a glance and stepped over me to hurry toward Adrian instead. She grabbed him off the floor and hurriedly helped him sit up.

"Adrian! Are you alright?" she asked, her eyes filled with anxiety.

Adrian sobbed in her arms as his shoulders trembled uncontrollably.

"I'm so scared, Cait… Abram… Abram just tried to kill me…"

Catilyn helped him to the living room couch and checked him everywhere, finally concluding that he'd only had a bad shock. Then, she finally turned to me.

Her expression was darker than thunder.

I struggled to sit up. However, the back of my head continued to bleed and dye my collar a bright red.

I tried to explain. "It was him—"

"That's enough, Abram Darrow!" she screamed at me angrily. "Must you drive Adrian to his death before you're finally happy?

"He's already going to prison for you, and you can't even put up with him for a few more days? How could you just shove him down the stairs like this?"