The Painkiller That Made My Family Want Me Dead

Linnea's POV

The car crash six months ago destroyed my body. I survive the agony only through the painkillers prescribed by my brother, Fletcher.

While shopping for my wedding dress, I simply swallowed a pill on schedule. My mother responded with a slap that made me spit blood. My father stormed in and kicked my ribs in without asking a single question.

I fled crying to my brother, only for him to grab me in disgust: "You are a disgrace to this family."

I called my fiancé. He rushed to the scene, took one look at the pill, and called the cops without hesitation: "The engagement is off. She makes me sick."

In just a few hours, I went from a bride-to-be to a death row inmate.

But as the gavel fell, I saw our family maid calmly swallow the exact same pill from the gallery…

I lunged at the railing, screaming at the judge. He leaned down, a chilling smile spreading across his face: "Linnea, this is all because…"

That familiar burning sensation flared from my fractured ribs up my spine as I stood before the dressing room mirror.

"Put on this V-neck French silk gown, you will absolutely be the most beautiful bride. Hollis will love it," my mother, Cordelia, cooed softly from behind the curtain.

I gritted my teeth, cold sweat beading on my forehead. Trembling, I fished the light brown leather pillbox from my purse, shook out a white oval pill, and swallowed it dry.

"Linn, come out and let me—what are you doing?!"

The curtain was yanked open. Cordelia stared at the pillbox in my hand, her blue-gray eyes instantly widening in horror.

"It’s just time for my medication, Mom…"

A brutal slap struck my left cheek.

I lost my balance and slammed into the fitting mirror. My ears rang, and a metallic taste of rust flooded my mouth.

"You shameless, cheap little bitch!" Cordelia shrieked. "Popping pills while picking out your engagement dress?! You have no more shame than a street whore!"

"What’s going on? Cordelia, lower your voice, there are other people in the store."

My father, Garrison, shoved past the clerks and strode into the dressing room.

"Dad, I just took the painkiller Fletcher prescribed for me…" I cried, clutching my swollen cheek, tears welling in my eyes.

Garrison sighed, his tone as tolerant as always. "Cordelia, stop it. Linn is hurt. Taking one prescription painkiller is no big deal."

My tense nerves relaxed for a single second—

Before Cordelia pointed like a madwoman at the pillbox on the floor. "Are you blind?! Look at what that is!"

Garrison saw the box, lunged at me, grabbed me by the hair, and yanked me viciously to the floor.

"Where did you get this?!"

I screamed in agony, my newly healed cervical spine feeling as if it would snap. "It hurts! Let me go! These are the pills Fletcher gave me!"

"Liar! You lying bitch!"

Garrison raised his foot and kicked me mercilessly in the stomach.

I curled up on the floor, completely bewildered.

"We gave you everything! Held you in the palm of our hands! And this is how you repay us?!" Cordelia pounced, driving her high heel into the back of my hand. "Do you want to destroy the Caldecott family?! You reckless idiot, you’re going to get us all killed!"

"I didn't... I don't know what you're talking about..." I sobbed in despair, trying to protect my head.

Punches and kicks rained down on me.

The hands that once gently tucked me in and brought me hot soup were now viciously tearing me apart. The agonizing pain and the absolute shattering of my reality stopped my breathing. They were actually trying to kill me—over a generic painkiller I had been taking for six months.

I don't know how long it lasted before the beating finally stopped.

Panting, Garrison straightened his tie, snatched my pillbox, and shoved it into his pocket.

"I’m calling the security team to pull the car into the back alley," he said coldly. He turned, walked out, and locked the door behind him.

I lay on the cold floor like a dying dog.

Muffled but frantic voices drifted through the door.

"…We can't let her go on like this, Garrison, she’ll ruin…" My mother was crying, but there was no heartbreak in her voice—only bone-chilling fear.

"There’s no turning back. We have to do this cleanly…" my father replied, his voice like ice.

Why?! It was just a normal painkiller from Fletcher! What the hell was wrong with that pill?!

While they were distracted on the phone, I fought through the agony that threatened to make me pass out and crawled toward the emergency exit at the back of the dressing room. Pushing open the heavy fire door, I stumbled and scrambled into the alley.

Barefoot, wearing a torn, blood-stained silk dress. Every breath felt like inhaling razor blades, but I didn't dare stop.

There was only one place to go: Halverston-Brae Medical Center.

When I dragged my half-dead body through the door of the Pain Management Director’s office, Fletcher was sitting at his desk, reviewing files.

He looked up. His amber eyes violently contracted the second he saw me.

Pale, soaked in cold sweat, blood at the corner of my mouth, I stared at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Linn?!" Fletcher sprang up and rushed over, his voice thick with shock and heartache. "Good God… What happened to you? Who did this?!"