Chapter 6
Leonard probably shoved the good luck charm into my pocket while patching me up.
But all I felt was pure disgust, as if I'd swallowed a fly.
I mustered every bit of strength I had and flung the charm across the room.
It landed on the floor with a soft thud, instantly gathering dust.
Just then, Leonard walked in carrying some medicine, watching as the charm landed right at his feet.
He stopped in his tracks, looked up, and locked his gaze on my face, his eyes full of disbelief.
He said, "You begged for it for my safety and said it was our protective charm. And now you tossed it like that?"
I frowned, my voice weak from blood loss but eerily calm. "Even a dog wouldn't touch that filthy thing. Is it so wrong for me to throw it away?"
"Filthy thing?" Leonard's chest rose and fell, his eyes stinging with hurt and rage.
He probably never imagined that the girl who once hung on his every word would now toss his things away like trash.
He lifted his foot and stomped down on the charm, grinding it into the dirt until it was stained and ruined.
He let out a cold, mocking laugh, his voice sharp. "You're so spoiled, you don't even have a conscience, Cecilia.
"You're such an ingrate."
"No wonder Julian picked Evelyn instead of you.
"With the way you are, who could care about you?"
"Leonard," Alexander cut him off, his voice low and serious, sounding like he thought Leonard was being way too harsh.
Leonard's eyes were red as he looked at me long and hard, searching my face for any sign of sadness or regret.
But all he got was disappointment. My face was cold and unphased, and there was even a hint of mockery in my eyes.
Leonard shook with rage. He slammed the herbal tonic down hard on the table, scalding liquid splattering across the surface.
"If you're so full of pride, then don't bother with treatment. Go to hell and get it over with," he snapped.
I stared at the steaming medicine, feeling strangely peaceful inside.
"Then don't treat me. Just let me die. I'm begging you, Leonard," I said, my voice light and drifting.
That "please" wasn't a plea for life. It was a plea for death.
Leonard stiffened up.
That look in my eyes, that desperate wish for an end, sent a wave of panic crashing through him.
But quickly, he masked it with rage, stabbing his finger at me and yelling, "Still pretending, huh?
"If that's how you want it, then get your ass up and go apologize to Evelyn.
"You scared her so bad her old illness flared up, and she's still out cold.
"If you don't beg Evelyn to forgive you, then you're dead to me as a sister."
I stared at him, a bitter laugh caught in my throat.
Whatever. I heard it was snowing outside. Maybe the cold would finally do the job, letting me die and leave this world.
I flung the blanket aside, not caring that the wound on my chest was splitting open and bleeding again. My bare feet hit the icy floor.
"Fine, I'll go," I said.
Alexander and Leonard both froze.
They expected me to cry, throw a fit, or fight back.
After all, I used to turn the whole place upside down over the slightest grievance.
But now, I was quiet and lifeless, like a puppet.
I walked out, each step leaving a bloody footprint on the floor.
Blood from my reopened wound trickled down my pant leg, leaving a trail behind me.
"Cecilia," Alexander called out behind me, his voice hesitant.
I didn't look back. Affection that came too late was worth less than dirt.
I was done with it all, family, love, any of it.
All I want now was that jackpot money, and a healthy body without cancer.
The snow kept falling, heavier and heavier.
Huge, fluffy flakes landed on my shoulders, melting instantly against my skin and soaking through my thin clothes.
My bones ached from the cold, but I didn't feel chilled, only a burning sensation.
The fever from my infected wound was so high that my head felt stuffed with cotton, and my vision was starting to blur.
Just like that, I walked barefoot all the way to Evelyn's place, Snowfall Pavilion.
How ironic. She got the best room in the whole house, and the entire family went out of their way to make it beautiful for her.
Meanwhile, I was stuck in some run-down side courtyard. I couldn't even get firewood without begging the maids.
At the entrance to Snowfall Pavilion, Evelyn's personal maid, Anna, stood guard, idly munching on roasted peanuts.
When she saw me approaching, blood-stained and disheveled, a flicker of contempt crossed her eyes.
She pretended to be shocked and called out, "Well, if it isn't Ms. Cecilia Blair.
"Why are you showing up looking like a ghost?
"If you end up making Ms. Evelyn Blair's illness worse, do you think you can handle what comes next?"
Back then, if I heard crap like that, I'd be pissed off. But I'd still force myself to act like a proper lady and try to talk sense into her.
But now, her words were nothing but empty noise.