Chapter 3
He shoved me away.
He snapped, "Emily, I never thought you'd become so heartless!"
Sophie, who had been hiding behind the door, suddenly rushed toward the window.
"Alex, don't force Emily. It's all my fault! Everything's on me!
"I'm dying anyway. Maybe I should just end it right now, so you two won't have to fight because of me!"
My mom, tears streaming down her face, rushed over.
"Sophie, no!
"Don't leave me, please."
My mom, always so gentle and composed, turned around and knelt before me.
"Emily, please, just forgive Sophie this once, okay?
"She's always been a good girl. She only hurt you because she was afraid we'd stop loving her.
"She knows she messed up.
"You're better now, but my Sophie, my Sophie is barely holding on. She gave her heart to her brother, and tried so hard to make things right with you—now she's running out of time."
My dad walked over, looked at everything, and gave me a disappointed look.
"If I'd known our family would end up like this, I never should've let you come home.
"I should've just left you out there to be an orphan for the rest of your life."
Ethan stormed in and slapped me hard across the face. "Why are you provoking Sophie? Apologize to her! Beg her to come down!"
He yanked me off the bed and forced me to kneel at Sophie's feet.
Sophie rushed over, acting like she was protecting me.
"Ethan, don't treat Emily like this. She's your sister," Sophie said.
"Don't blame Emily because of me."
But when no one else was watching, she leaned in close to my ear.
She whispered words I never wanted to hear again, ever.
"Emily, bet you didn't expect this, did you? I never went to prison. Alex and your parents just shipped me off to some fancy villa abroad.
"Oh, and I've been stockpiling curling irons all these years. Where should I scorch you this time?
"I heard you were pregnant with Alex's baby. Disgusting, isn't it? Maybe I should scorch you down there this time.
"I'll see you in the storage room tonight."
I shoved her away, hugging my head in terror.
"No! Don't touch me!"
But Sophie deliberately slammed her head against the bedpost, blood instantly welling up on her forehead as she hissed in pain.
Everyone rushed to Sophie's side.
Sophie forced a smile. "Mom, Dad, Ethan, Alex, don't worry about me. I'm fine.
"If it helps Emily let off steam, even if she beats me to death, I won't complain. I'm dying anyway."
As soon as she finished, everyone looked at me like I was their worst enemy.
Alex pulled Sophie into his arms, holding her tight. "Sophie, I won't let you die.
"Didn't you always want to have a baby with me? Let's have one right now.
"Let me give you the wedding night I owe you."
Sophie hesitated, glancing at me, worry flickering in her eyes. "But Emily"
Alex's eyes turned icy. "Let her stay right here and witness everything. Let her see it all for herself.
"It's time for Emily to face the truth. You're my wife, the one I married."
My parents, who once cried and promised to make it up to me, now acted like this was the most natural thing in the world.
They had the bodyguards tie me to the table.
Without a second thought, they all left the room.
The man I'd loved for ten years was now on my wedding bed, slowly undressing Sophie.
He worshipped every inch of her pale, flawless skin, showering her with the gentlest kisses.
Unlike me—my body was a map of hideous, twisted scars, crawling across my skin like insects.
With every soft, delicate moan Sophie made, Alex's old words of love haunted me, replaying in my mind.
He used to whisper, "Emily, there's nothing ugly about your scars."
He used to say, "Emily, I love you so much. I really, really do."
He used to promise, "Emily, I swear, I'll make her pay for what she did to you."
But in the end, he married the bully who left me covered in scars.
I shut my eyes, but then an ashtray was smashed against my forehead.
Alex got off the bed and walked over to me.
He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Emily, don't you dare close your eyes. Open them wide and see for yourself—this is your place in this family."
The ashtray smashed against my forehead, scattering my thoughts into countless fragments. Even the faces around me faded into a haze.
In a fog, the world blurred and twisted, morphing into that stormy night.
A fifteen-year-old boy, his face streaked with blood, dragged a barely breathing girl out of the mud.
He yelled at the top of his lungs, "Emily, run!"
Tears welled up in my eyes as the boy vanished before me, but I echoed his cry, "Emily, run!"
Alex, if only I could still be Emily.
At my soft cry, the man who'd just lost control suddenly dropped to his knees in front of me and wrapped me tightly in his arms.