Chapter 2

I froze.

Before I could react, someone grabbed me from behind and yanked me backward.

I stumbled two steps and fell to the ground.

By the time I managed to scramble back to my feet, Nisha spoke, her voice slightly choked. "Lori, are you mad because I changed your milk without asking? Is that why you pushed me? I'm sorry. I'll go buy the kind you usually drink right now."

With that, she forced herself to her feet and headed for the door.

Calvin caught her and stopped her. Then he turned to me and shouted, "Why did you push Nisha? If you didn't want to drink it, you didn't have to. What's with the princess tantrum?"

His accusation stunned me.

Before I could explain, Selena cut me off the moment I opened my mouth, "Loretta, do you think all of us owe you something? That we should bend over backward for you?"

Joshua merely looked at me with disappointment before scooping Nisha into his arms when he saw her limping. "The three of us will take her to the hospital. Stay home and think about what you did."

The four of them turned and walked out.

I hurried after them in a panic. "That's not it. That's not what happened. Please, listen to me explain."

They walked too fast for me to catch up. In my panic, my feet tangled beneath me, and I fell hard to the ground.

By the time I picked myself up, they had already gotten into the car and driven away.

My phone buzzed. Selena had sent me a video.

Nisha's injured leg rested in Joshua's lap, smearing blood across his white shirt, but he didn't seem to mind at all. The other two anxiously fanned her wound.

For a moment, I could only stare.

I suddenly remembered another time, long ago, when I had scraped my hand. The three of them had fussed over me just like that. One had cleaned the wound with alcohol, another had gently blown on it, and the third had taken it upon himself to cheer me up.

But that was a long time ago. Afterward, whenever I got hurt, the impatience in their eyes only grew.

Eventually, I learned to hide my injuries, afraid they would find out. Every night, I picked at my scabbed wounds and didn't dare make a sound, even when I wanted to cry.

The voice from the video continued, "See that? They only notice when someone they love gets hurt. A burden means nothing to them."

I stood there, stunned.

Only then did I notice my palm. At some point, broken glass had sliced it open without me even realizing it, and blood trickled down in a thin line.

The crescent-shaped mark from where someone had pinched the back of my hand earlier was still there too. But not one of them had noticed.

Tears spilled from my eyes, and I couldn't stop them.

So I really was a burden. For ten years, all I had done was cause them trouble.

This time, I would give them the happiness they wanted.

…

Back home, I pulled out my suitcase.

The poison had begun to take effect. Pain wracked my entire body, and cold sweat beaded across my skin.

I didn't dare waste any time. I hurried to gather my keepsakes, including the dress Joshua had given me, the doll from Selena, and the half-finished bag of chips Calvin had bought me. I stuffed everything into the suitcase.

Then my phone rang. It was Joshua.

I answered immediately.

His tired, flat voice came through the speaker. "Nisha's wound got infected. She needs surgery. Let's postpone tomorrow's wedding. The three of us will stay with her at the hospital. Just stay home and behave."

I froze for a moment before murmuring a dazed, "Okay."

The instant I hung up, the tablet chimed and its screen lit up.

Calvin had sent a string of laughing messages in their group chat.

Calvin: [Josh really knows how to spin a story. Nisha just got a superficial scrape, and he made it sound like a crisis.]

Calvin: [He'll really say anything if it means he can marry Nisha.]

Selena chimed in, sounding equally exasperated.

Selena: [Good thing it's Loretta. Anyone else wouldn't be so easy to fool. Perfect. The four of us can just get a hotel tonight so Loretta doesn't get suspicious.]

My chest tightened until I could barely breathe.

I already knew a wound that small didn't require surgery. The last time I'd cut my hand with a kitchen knife, I'd cried so hard that I'd even written a will.

Joshua had laughed as he explained, "Lori, bleeding doesn't mean you're going to die. A small cut like this just needs a bandage. It'll heal in no time."

My ears had burned red as everyone laughed at me. But I'd never forgotten those words.

For ten years, I truly had been a fool. The only time I'd ever pretended to be one was so I could give Joshua his happiness.