Chapter 3

I woke up to a sharp sting in my head, the kind that makes your whole body feel heavy. For a few seconds, I couldn’t remember where I was.

The white ceiling above me felt strange, too bright, and too empty. Then the pain in my arm dragged the memories back one after another.

A soft voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

“You’re finally awake.”

A nurse was standing beside the bed, relief written on her face. I tried to speak, but my throat felt like sandpaper.

“You’ve been unconscious for two days,” she continued. “Your parents and brother-in-law are in the next room taking care of your sister. I’ll go call them over.”

“No…” I whispered, though even that whisper felt like it scraped my insides. “No need.”

She didn’t understand the weight behind those words.

They wouldn’t want to see me. And I don’t want to see them either.

I kept that part inside me.

The nurse moved closer and held out a crutch. “Let’s take you for a checkup.”

I forced myself to stand. My legs trembled as my weight settled on the crutch, but I steadied myself. Pain shot through my ribs, but I kept breathing slowly, refusing to show weakness to anyone anymore.

As we moved toward the hallway, two nurses stood at a corner. They didn’t notice me at first.

“They’re sisters,” one whispered. “The younger one is in the ICU, but the family couldn’t care less about the older one."

My steps paused.

“Exactly,” the other replied. “They’re busy fussing over the one who just got scared. I heard their brother-in-law is the CEO of Mills Corp. No wonder. Who will look at the elder sister? She has nothing to offer.”

My stomach tightened.

“I saw the man feeding the younger one,” the first nurse added. “Very caring. Gave her medicine too.”

My heart ached. I turned my face away so they wouldn’t see the pain on it.

The nurse guiding me signaled for us to continue, but each step felt heavier. We moved past the door next to mine, and I noticed it was slightly open. Something pulled me to look inside, maybe instinct, maybe fate.

My breath caught.

There they were.

The whole family, sitting around Celine’s bed as if she was a fragile goddess who deserved the world. My mother held a bowl of soup.

“Here, Celine, have some soup,” she said gently, lifting a spoon to her lips.

Celine smiled up at her like a sweet little child. “Thank you, Mum.”

Nathan leaned forward slightly. “Cel.”

She turned instantly, her eyes soft and expectant.

“Try a grape,” he said, lifting the fruit towards her lips.

She opened her mouth, playful and satisfied, and ate it. “Hmm. It’s delicious.”

“Good,” he whispered, his eyes tender on her.

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until my chest began to burn. Then Celine’s eyes shifted and she saw me.

In a swift moment, she gave me a tiny smirk, the kind that cuts deeper than a knife.

And then, as if she suddenly remembered she was supposed to be the angel, she straightened her face and turned to our parents.

“Mum… Dad…” Her voice trembled like she was about to break down. “You’ve been here with me this whole time, yet you haven’t even gone to see Charlotte.”

My heart jumped, finding its way out of my ribcage.

What is she planning now?

“I’m full,” she continued softly. “Please, take the rest of the soup to her. She’s badly injured. She needs it more than I do.”

Their reactions were like slaps.

“Oh dear, don’t worry about her,” my father said. “It’s just a scratch. She will live. Your mother stayed up all night making that soup for you. Giving it to Charlotte will only waste it.”

My mother nodded immediately. “Your father is right.”

I felt something inside my chest twist painfully. My knees weakened. I held onto the crutch tighter.

“I don’t know what is wrong with Charlotte these days,” Mum added. “Always acting like we owe her something. Like we owe her the world.”

Charlotte.

That name. My name, rolled out of her mouth like irritation, as if I was some burden they were forced to carry.

“Here, have another sip,” she said to Celine, and my sister leaned forward gladly, her lips brushing the spoon as she gave me another wicked smirk.

Then she spoke again, acting innocent. “Mom, Dad… Charlotte might be immature sometimes, but we’re still family. Why can’t we treat her better?”

Nathan moved closer behind her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, tender and protective.

“You’re too kind,” he murmured. “That’s why she always bullies you. Charlotte has no shame. She even had improper thoughts about me. She never saw you as her sister. Why do you still care?”

Something inside me completely shattered.

My breath tightened painfully in my throat. My grip on the crutch trembled.

Improper thoughts? Me? The woman who stayed by him for a whole five years?

The humiliation burned deeper than everything else.

I couldn’t stand there any longer. I turned away, my vision blurring.

Every word they said replayed in my head like a punishment.

“No one in this house has ever trusted me,” I whispered under my breath. “Why would anyone care about me?”

That sentence opened a door inside my mind, pulling out memories I had buried long ago.

A few days before all this happened…

I had rushed into my room and found Celine scattering my clothes, stepping on them like trash. My favorite white gown was under her shoes, already stained.

“My clothes—” I gasped, hurrying toward her.

She turned sharply and slapped me. Hard.

“Are you stupid?” she yelled. “Can’t you see I’m stepping on it? Do you want to kill me?”

I pressed my palm to my stinging cheek. “How dare you hit me? You ruined my dress and destroyed my room! What did I ever do to you?”

“So what if I did?” she snapped. “Everything in this family will be mine one day, including your things.”

She lifted one of my bras, dropped it on the floor, and stepped on it deliberately.

“I can step on whatever I want.”

My body shook. I grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re a worthless loser!” she screamed.

Just then, our parents walked in.

Before I could even explain, she threw herself backward and fell.

They rushed to her like she was porcelain.

“Charlotte!” my father thundered, slapping me so hard I dropped to the floor. “How dare you touch her?!”

“I didn’t push her!” I cried. “She ruined my things! Look around! She—”

“Enough!” my mother snapped. “You’re jealous of her. Always have been. If you want respect, stop your disgusting behavior!”

My father pointed a finger at me, eyes filled with coldness.

“If I see you lay a finger on Celine again, you won’t live in this house anymore.”

Celine looked back at me as they led her out and smiled triumphantly.

*******

Standing in the hospital hallway now, the same smile flashed again in my memory.

Some wounds don’t bleed, but they ache in ways the body cannot carry.

That day, something inside me went quiet.

“I begged for love all my life,” I whispered, turning away from the door. “And it only led me to my own destruction.”

I tightened my grip on the crutch and moved forward, each step slow but determined.

“This time, I won’t beg again. I won’t fight for any of them. Not family. Not love. Not anything.”

I didn’t look back as I walked away.