Chapter 2
But before I could slip away, I spun around in a panic and collided hard with the manager rushing up behind me.
The bottles of wine in my hands—worth tens of thousands of dollars—shattered across the floor.
The manager's face instantly darkened. Without a second thought, she slapped me so hard I collapsed to the ground.
Just then, my brother Arthur strode out of the VIP room. He brushed right past us, immediately opening his arms to catch Lily, who threw herself at him like a fluttering butterfly.
"Why did you come back by yourself? Didn't we agree I'd pick you up?" he murmured, his voice dripping with tenderness. "Are you tired? I've arranged a professional spa team for you; you can get a full-body treatment as soon as we get home."
Lily giggled, trembling with joy. "I missed you, Arthur! I just wanted to give you a surprise!"
Wearing a cheap face mask, I knelt less than a meter away from them, not daring to move or make a sound.
My bloodshot eyes stung, blinded by the dazzling diamonds completely paving Lily's high heels.
Just one of those diamonds could pay for a whole year of my brother's "imported medication."
"M-Mr. Hale," the manager timidly interrupted. "I am so incredibly sorry. Your wine was shattered by this clumsy, stupid thing."
A pair of immaculate black leather shoes stopped right in front of me.
Knowing exactly who he was, the manager was terrified of his wrath. "Mr. Hale, I apologize for disrupting your reunion with Miss Lily. It's all this blind idiot's fault, she can't even hold a few bottles steady. I'll have someone bring up a few better ones for you right away."
She grabbed my arm, pinching and twisting my flesh viciously.
Arthur frowned impatiently.
"Enough."
He pointed down at me. "Since you broke them, use your hands to pick up every single shard of glass on this hallway floor. If my sister steps on even one piece, you'll swallow it."
The hallway was lined with thick, sound-absorbing carpet. The shattered glass was embedded deep in the fibers, nearly impossible to find.
I had no choice but to stay on my knees, using my bare palms to scrape and feel around for the shards inch by inch.
Lily narrowed her eyes at my back, then suddenly clung to Arthur's arm, whining spoiledly. "Brother, I'm tired."
"Such a baby," he chuckled softly. "Then I'll carry you out. It's too dangerous to walk here."
Those black leather shoes stepped directly onto the back of my hand, grinding down hard, before walking right over me in complete, oblivious indifference.
I remained kneeling on the floor, staring at the bloody glass shards embedded deep in my palm.
I started to cry, and then, amidst the tears, I began to laugh.
I stumbled back to that cold, damp basement apartment at two in the morning.
Arthur was stretched out on the beat-up single bed, eyes shut, his breathing slow and steady. On the nightstand sat the “specialty injectable meds” I’d drained every last cent of my savings to buy him the day before.
I stepped over and stood there, staring down at him quietly.
His cheeks held a healthy, rosy flush—nothing like the sickly pale skin of someone confined to bed for years. I’d once told myself my constant care was helping him recover. Now I knew the truth: that glow came from feasting on A5 Wagyu and fresh truffles at Manhattan’s five-star fine-dining spots every single afternoon.
“You’re back?” Arthur’s eyes fluttered open, and he let out a weak, rattling cough for show.
“Mm-hmm,” I replied flatly, setting the leftover takeout I’d bagged up on the rickety table.
“Why’d you get in so late?” He frowned, sounding irritated by my icy detachment.
“The club was swamped.” I didn’t bother elaborating, turning to head for the sink.
Ice-cold tap water rushed over my trembling hands. I lifted my gaze to the mirror, staring at the gaunt, haggard woman with brittle, straw-dry hair staring back. I barely recognized the proud, glowing Evelyn I used to be.
“Evelyn, are you mad at me?” Arthur’s voice drifted over from behind my back. “Do you resent that I’m dragging you down?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and drew in a shaky breath.
“Not at all, brother.” I spun to face him, my gaze empty and still as stagnant pond water. “How could I ever be mad at you?”
How could I hate you? I just think every single part of this miserable farce is utterly ridiculous.
After finishing dinner, I stepped out of the kitchen to find the living room empty. I walked toward the bedroom door, only to catch Arthur’s hushed voice on the phone inside.
"Be a good girl," he was saying gently. "I’ve prepared the grandest birthday party for you. I’ll be there to celebrate with you in person tomorrow."
Over the line, Lily feigned concern. "But tomorrow is Evelyn’s birthday too. Won't she be mad if you don't spend it with her?"
"Silly girl, you are my only precious sister. Your happiness is what matters most," Arthur replied without hesitation. "Evelyn hasn't celebrated a birthday in five years; she's used to it by now. Skipping one more year won't make a difference."
Lily cheered with delight, "I knew you loved me the most, Arthur!"
I stood outside the door in dead silence for a long time. Finally, I untied my apron, turned around, and left the apartment.
When Arthur came out of the room, I was already gone. Left on the rickety table was a bowl of soft, thoroughly cooked noodles and his "imported medication."
Suddenly, his mind flashed to my unnaturally pale face, and the painfully thin silhouette of my back—frail as a bundle of dry firewood—while I was cooking.
A sudden wave of panic seized him. He realized, to his absolute horror, that he couldn't recall a single trace of the bright, radiant, and proud sister I used to be.
It was as if something had viciously pierced his chest.
An inexplicable sense of unease and quiet guilt crept up on him, suffocating him in the silence.
He grabbed his phone and quickly dialed a secret number.
