Chapter 2

Right, Lizzie's major case of skin hunger was flaring up again, and she needed Alan to stick to her like glue for some "treatment."

Lizzie panted, "Celestine, can you tell me which position will help me get pregnant again?

"This time, I'm determined to give Alan a daughter, so he can have both a son and a daughter."

Thinking about my daughter who never even got the chance to open her eyes and see the world, my heart felt like it was being ripped out all over again.

I held myself together and kept silent.

Lizzie snuggled into Alan's arms, crying pitifully. "Alan, is Celestine still mad at me? I swear, it wasn't my fault the baby died."

Alan's face suddenly turned cold, and he shot me a look like I was something disgusting. "Celestine, apologize to Lizzie."

That bitter, metallic taste flooded my throat as I numbly muttered, "I'm sorry. I just wasn't lucky enough to keep the baby. It's not your fault."

Alan took a deep breath, his eyes growing more vicious and menacing. "Celestine, is there any point to you now, other than being my kid's wet nurse?"

I kept my head down, silent, just letting him vent his anger.

Alan suddenly grabbed my arm, his voice rough and furious. "Are you feeling sorry for yourself?

"If your dad hadn't screwed up the calculations back then, my family wouldn't have ended up dead.

"Just spit out the truth about what really happened, then get down on your knees and apologize to my whole family. Do that, and I'll kick them all out."

I'd explained what really happened to him over and over, but he just refused to believe me.

The last time I tried to defend my family, Alan had people pin me down and forced me to watch as my family's remains were cremated right before my eyes.

I got down on my knees and begged him to leave my family's remains alone, but all I got was being locked up in the Row family's house, constantly humiliated and tormented.

My eyes stung as I blinked, my voice rough. "Alan, I don't know."

Alan stared me down, nodding forcefully, a bitter laugh escaping him, tears almost spilling from his eyes.

"Alright, Celestine. Your whole life is only good for paying for your sins," Alan spat.

His words were like a dagger, stabbing my heart over and over.

Back when he was eighteen, Alan used to call me his goddess.

Now, at twenty-eight, Alan said my life is as cheap as garbage.

Every night, I found myself staring at the rooftop, wishing I could just jump and make it all stop.

But before Grandma passed, she gripped my hand tight and begged me. "The Whitmore family's legacy as the thirteenth generation of fortune-tellers can't be broken.

"Celestine, please, for me, promise you'll keep going, no matter what."

But now, my baby never even had the chance to let out a single cry before Alan coldly disposed of her like she meant nothing.

Grandma, I was sorry. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to keep my promise to you.

I knelt on the cold tiles, the baby's wails echoing in my ears, my chest burning and heavy, aching like I was carrying hot iron inside.

Cold sweat beaded on my forehead, and my vision blurred as the room started to spin.

I looked at the little face in the crib, and couldn't help but think of my own child. If she were still alive, would she be crying just like this?

As my mind started to fade, I saw Alan stumble in, reeking of booze, and collapse right on top of me, his whole body heavy and desperate.

"Why?" Alan sobbed, his tears burning hot. "My mom was only six months pregnant with my little sister."

I was burning up, shivering uncontrollably, cold sweat soaking through my clothes.

"Why I wasn't even there that day," Alan rasped, voice cracking. "My whole family... they're all gone. I'm the only one left."

The pain in my chest was so intense, it felt like it was about to explode.

"My dad was such a decent man," Alan cried out in utter despair. "Why did your father get the fortune-telling wrong back then? Why, Celestine? Just tell me. Why did it have to happen?"

I bit down so hard on my lip that it bled, just to keep myself from blacking out.

"Celestine, I hate you, but I hate myself even more. I can't even hate you the way I want to." Alan pressed my hand to his chest, hitting himself as if punishing both of us.

Just before I slipped into darkness, I thought I heard him choke out, his voice trembling. "Why did we end up like this..."

Between Alan and me, love and hate had twisted into a knot that neither of us could ever break free from.

We were locked in a battle that would only end when one of us was destroyed.