Chapter 3
Harriet wheeled herself into the room.
"Evie, Scott's not here, so you can stop pretending to work so hard," Harriet said.
My hands stilled as I folded the clothes, but I ignored her.
When I didn't respond, Harriet's gaze landed on the nightstand, right next to my mom's photo.
There sat a red velvet jewelry box.
Harriet stared at the box, then suddenly reached out.
She snatched up the red velvet box and, right in front of me, slammed it hard onto the floor.
A piece of jewelry rolled out, and a visible crack appeared on its surface.
That was the only thing my mom left me.
"Honestly, I kind of admire you. You'd even use your own mother as leverage just to keep Scott by your side," Harriet said.
She looked at me, her voice full of contempt.
I stared at the cracked jewelry on the floor, my whole body shaking with anger.
Evie snapped, "What nonsense are you talking about?"
"I am Making things up?" Harriet shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Evie, Scott only feels bad for me because I lost my legs. Why are you so bitter? Are you seriously using your mom's death just to get Scott to pay attention to you? Isn't that just sad?"
"Say that again," I said, staring her down.
"Like I said, you're using your mom's death to fish for sympathy. That's just pathetic..."
I lunged forward and smacked her right across the face.
I spat out each word, "Harriet, you lost your legs. You'll never stand up again. Who are you to boss me around? Go ahead, say one more word about my mom, I dare you."
Harriet clearly hadn't expected me to hit her. She covered her face and started crying.
"What the hell are you doing? How dare you hit me!" she screamed.
Her cries grew louder and louder.
Just then, the door was flung open.
Scott burst in, out of breath, still wearing his shoes.
He marched straight up to me and shoved me hard.
I stumbled back, my back slamming into the wardrobe.
"Evie, are you out of your mind?" Scott shouted.
He wrapped his arms protectively around Harriet, then turned to me, his eyes blazing with disgust and anger.
"What the hell is wrong with you? She was just trying to talk to you, and you had to rub salt in her wounds.
"She's already lost her legs. Isn't that enough for you? Do you really have to be so cruel?"
I leaned against the cold wardrobe, the pain in my back nothing compared to the ache in my heart.
Watching him protect Harriet, I couldn't help but think, 'Honestly, these two really are made for each other.'
"Yeah, sure," Evie said.
Evie clutched her bruised back, her tone icy.
"So Harriet lost her legs, and that makes her the victim, right? But my mom died, so you guys get to toss her memory around like some punchline? Is that how it works?"
Scott paused, his frown deepening.
Scott snapped, "Why are you dragging Mom into this again? Can you stop with the lies?
"Are you having PTSD or something because of Mom's accident, and now you're just imagining things? Seriously, you need to see a psychiatrist."
I just stared at him, not bothering to say another word.
He shot me a look of disappointment, then wheeled Harriet out of the room.
The next morning, I woke up to see Scott pushing Harriet's wheelchair.
"Harriet, it's a beautiful day. How about I take you down to the garden for some fresh air?" Scott suggested.
Harriet gave a sweet little nod, and as she passed by me, she flashed a smile and said, "Evie, we're heading out now. Don't be mad at Scott, okay?"
I sat on the couch, not even bothering to look up.
Once the door closed, I got up and made my way to my mom's bedroom.
All her things were already packed up. I took one last look around the house I'd lived in for seven years. There wasn't a single ounce of nostalgia in me. I pulled out my phone and called my uncle.
I said, "Uncle, I'm coming back with Mom's things."
Before I left, I pulled the divorce papers out of my bag and set them on the coffee table in the living room.
Then, without looking back, I walked out.
Two hours later, Scott wheeled Harriet back home.
Scott called out for me, but the house stayed silent, no one answered.
"Scott, Evie's not here. Do you think she's still upset with us because of what happened yesterday?" Harriet cooed, her tone all sugar and innocence.
Harriet looked up at Scott with those big, innocent eyes.
Scott wheeled her over to the couch, his voice full of impatience.
"Just ignore her. She's always been stubborn. She's probably off to the hospital to see Mom. Let her do whatever she wants," Scott said.
Harriet gave a sweet little nod, but her gaze kept sneaking over to the coffee table.
"What?"
Harriet let out a little exclamation and pointed straight at the papers on the table, her eyes wide.