Chapter 2
My soul refused to leave.
It hovered in a corner near the ER ceiling, stubborn as a stain.
Was it the unbearable resentment anchoring me here?
My blood was still warm, yet my own father had just traded my life for a scrape. This suffocating injustice chained my spirit to the room.
Emily had been forcibly shoved out of the trauma bay by Richard.
A few sycophantic doctors clustered around Chloe, putting on an outrageously dramatic dressing over a scrape that didn’t even need stitches.
Only after Chloe’s arm had been wrapped into a thick, ridiculous mummy did Richard finally let out a long breath and wave everyone away.
The curtain around the bay was drawn, sealing off a space that felt almost private.
I thought Chloe would keep up her fragile, trembling act.
But the second the last doctor stepped out, the softness and fear vanished from her face like a mask being ripped off.
She sat up in bed and extended the arm that had supposedly been “too painful to move.” With one easy motion, she hooked it around Richard’s neck.
“Dad,” she purred, “you were so scary just now. You almost terrified me.”
Richard didn’t push her away. He slid an arm around her waist as if it belonged there.
He bent down and kissed her hard on the forehead.
“If it wasn’t for you, do you think I’d lose my temper like that?” he said. “Do you have any idea? The second I saw you bleeding, my heart broke.”
I floated above them, and my spirit nearly came apart at the nauseating sight.
“But… what about Audrey?” Chloe asked, fake concern dripping off every syllable as she flicked a glance toward my body. “She was bleeding so much. If she really dies… won’t you feel bad?”
“Feel bad for that useless piece of trash?” Richard gave a cold laugh, disgust carved into his eyes.
“All she’s ever done is cause trouble. Since she was little, what has she ever had on you? YOU ARE the real musical genius.”
At that, a shrill laugh tore through me—silent, because they couldn’t hear it.
Genius? Chloe?
When I was thirteen, I wrote my first violin concerto. Richard, desperate to make Chloe happy, forced my name off the score and put hers on it—launching her overnight.
When I was fifteen, I earned a full scholarship to Juilliard. Richard secretly ripped up my acceptance letter and cornered me into staying home—so I could serve as Chloe’s practice partner.
He always said it was because of “years of guilt,” because the moment my mother died he brought his illegitimate daughter into the house.
But what had I ever done wrong?
The ER doors burst open again.
My stepmother, Madeleine, rushed in with my fiancé, Arthur.
Chloe immediately shoved Richard away, sank back into the bed, and—like magic—her eyes flooded red within a single second.
“Oh, my poor baby Chloe, what you’ve been through!” Madeleine threw herself to the bedside, stroking Chloe’s cheek with aching tenderness. Then she snapped her head around and hissed, “Where’s that jinx Audrey? If she wanted to die so badly, why did she have to drag you into it?”
Arthur, too, wore nothing but concern as he took Chloe’s other hand, lifted it, and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles.
“Chloe, don’t be afraid. I’m here,” he said softly.
“I’ve already contacted the best lawyer. For this accident, I’ll make Audrey take full responsibility. I won’t let it touch your reputation.”
Watching the man I once loved fawn over my enemy, I felt no heartbreak at all—only an endless chill, and a bitter, mocking clarity.
I was almost grateful I was dead.
Otherwise… how many more years would I have had to live with this kind of disgust?
