Chapter 3

Sasha wasn't about to play Mira's game. She turned to leave.

Mira scowled, ready to snap again—then froze. Someone familiar was walking down the corridor.

In a blink, she yanked Sasha's wrist and dragged her into the fountain.

Neither of them could swim.

They splashed, kicked, screamed for help.

Sasha's stitches ripped open. Blood spread fast.

Freezing water shot up her nose—she choked, coughing hard.

Her body gave out. Everything burned, then went numb. She sank.

Right before it all went black, she saw Vincent sprinting toward the fountain—then diving in.

He swam right past her—didn't even look her way—and dragged Mira to the edge.

Mira, eyes red and watery, collapsed into his arms. She peeked back at Sasha, still sinking, then threw on a worried face.

"She... She pushed me in by accident," she said sweetly. "Vincent, she's my only sister. Can you get her too?"

Vincent's face iced over. He glanced at Sasha, flailing and half-submerged.

"Mira, don't defend her. She clearly tried to drown you, then jumped in for show. If she wants to play the victim, let her soak in it."

Every word cut deep.

Her face burned purple, lungs empty. A sharp ringing swallowed everything. The world smeared and tilted.

Through the blur, she saw Vincent carrying Mira away.

Then darkness.

A blast of cold air snapped Sasha awake. She shook hard as she opened her eyes.

Donald and Diana loomed over her, faces tight with fury.

"Are you insane?" Diana snapped. "How dare you shove Mira into the water? Were you trying to kill her and steal Vincent? As long as we're alive, that'll never happen."

Donald's voice hit just as hard. "You'll never compare to your sister. You're not worthy of Vincent. Face it and quit the fantasy."

Their yelling cut colder than the water. Sasha's chest tightened, eyes filling with something heavier than tears—pure, bone-deep despair.

But the pain? It finally cracked wide open.

"Not worthy? SHE'S worthy?" Her voice shook. "If you hadn't lied and faked everything, Vincent wouldn't have looked at her twice. You stole what was mine and handed it to her. Doesn't that shame you at all?"

Diana flushed. Donald's hand flew.

The slap snapped her head sideways.

"You ungrateful brat!" he barked. "We gave you life. Everything you have came from us. If we wanna take it and hand it to Mira, we will. You think you get a say? You dare speak the truth again—just try it and see what happens—"

The door slammed open.

Vincent stepped in, frowning. "The truth? What truth?"

Donald and Diana jolted, scrambling to cover.

"W-We were just disciplining her," Donald stammered. "Trying to get her to admit she pushed Mira."

"She won't confess no matter what," Diana added quickly. "We're furious—don't even know how to punish her."

They shot each other a quick look, smoothly dodging the topic.

Vincent didn't think much of it. His stare landed on Sasha—cold, sharp.

"Still won't own up? Lock her in the morgue. Let her out when she figures out what she did wrong."

Donald and Diana nodded like it was genius, then waved the guards in without hesitation.

Sasha clutched her burning cheek, eyes blank, checked out.

Fighting back would only make it worse. So she didn't. Let them drag her off.

The morgue was a freezer. Bone-deep cold. She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking like crazy.

Her mind drifted, foggy and frayed.

She saw flashes of the old Scythe estate—those stormy nights when she and Vincent huddled together under one coat. He'd pull her close, hold her hand tight, whisper over and over, "I'm here. You're safe."

Those memories stabbed sharper than the cold.

Minutes blurred. Her stomach screamed, her body numb. She could barely think.

Then the door creaked open.

Vincent stepped in, expression stone-cold, eyes cutting.

"You've been in here a full day and night. Ready to admit what you did?"

Sasha stayed curled up, voice raw and rasping. "I admit it. I was wrong."

He looked satisfied.

She wobbled to her feet and walked out, whispering to herself. 'Wrong for believing you'd be with me. Wrong for ever falling for you.'