Chapter 2

My body was giving out, my forehead dripping with cold sweat, my stomach tearing in pain. I couldn't stop curling up in agony.

At my words, Charlotte's expression faltered.

Daniel lifted his leg and slammed it into my stomach. "Still faking it, huh? We know Charlotte's health better than you. Let me tell you, even if something happens to her, I'll never treat you like my real sister. Don't even think about it!

"Do you think Charlotte would have had a relapse if you weren't constantly bullying her when we weren't around?"

The pain made me convulse. As blood leaked from my lips, William's expression shifted, just for a second.

But Charlotte just held her chest and murmured, "It hurts."

In an instant, William stopped in his tracks. He scooped Charlotte into his arms and rushed for the door.

I shakily stood up, and from upstairs, I dug out the letter my second brother had thrown in my face years ago.

It was the letter severing our relationship.

Back then, I had begged him to take it back, even becoming Charlotte's servant for three months, bearing scars from burns that never faded.

It was only after Charlotte was satisfied that Daniel reluctantly allowed me to avoid signing it.

Now, without hesitation, I signed my name.

I was done with them. Completely.

I clenched my teeth through the pain and cut the doll to pieces.

It was nothing special. Just a cheap little freebie that came with a custom-made music box Daniel had casually bought for Charlotte.

He'd tossed it to me like spare change after watching me run around all day.

But to me, it was everything. I held onto it for ten whole years.

Sweat slid down my forehead. My vision blurred, my head going light.

The next second, the door was kicked open. A bodyguard dragged me out, and everything went black on the way to the hospital.

"Victoria, did you do that on purpose?" Daniel threw at me.

His slap came flying at my face. I turned my head and dodged it.

"Do you have any idea how bad Charlotte's health is?" he snapped. "And you still said those things to provoke her? How can you be this selfish? You already killed Mom. Now you're trying to kill her too?"

My face went paper-white.

"If you care so much," I said calmly, "then give her your own heart."

Daniel stared at me like he was looking at a stranger.

"Victoria, you're the one who keeps saying you want to atone," he shot back.

"Atone for what?" I lifted my eyes to him. "What sin do I have? Losing my mom at five, then being treated like a stranger by my own brother for over ten years? If that's my crime, I've already paid for it."

"If you're that worried about Charlotte," I went on, "you donate your heart. I don't owe her anything."

William's face darkened. "Victoria, I promise you," he said slowly, "you'll be fine."

His eyes flicked to the wound on my lips. There was a trace of concern there, so faint it almost didn't exist.

"We can wait until you heal first," he added. "Then we'll continue the surgery."

"Did I stutter?" I snapped. "I said I don't agree."

William looked unsettled, searching my face for something familiar.

He found nothing. "Victoria," he said softly, "I admit Charlotte was a little willful just now, but she's scared. She's just a kid.

"I'm one year younger than Charlotte."

I threw him a mocking glance.

If Charlotte so much as cried because the weather was too cold, guess who got blamed? Me.

If she didn't get the clothes she wanted, obviously, it was my fault.

If she even twisted her ankle while walking, of course, it was still my fault.

But did anyone ever treat me like I was just a kid?

Whenever Charlotte got upset, I'd be locked away alone to "think about what I did," left hungry in the dark, terrified and forgotten.

That was the shadow that hung over my whole childhood.

"William, why are you wasting your breath?" Daniel cut in coldly. "Just strap her to the operating table. Charlotte could crash any minute."

He looked at me with icy contempt, holding a letter in his hand. A Curtis Institute of Music acceptance letter. "You really think you can just walk away?"

He tore it in half.

"Charlotte didn't get into college because of her health," he said. "And you had to go rub it in her face at a time like this. Forget school. You're not going."

"No!" I yelled, my voice breaking with desperation.

I rushed over and scrambled to grab the shredded acceptance letter out of his hands.