Chapter 2

Hospital elevators always took forever.

Fearing the soup would get cold, I ran up the stairs instead.

Nineteen floors. On each landing, I had to stop and gasp for breath, my lungs burning.

Pushing open the door to the room, Dad was already there.

He held a pink bag with the logo of the latest tablet on it.

Chloe was propped up in bed, giggling uncontrollably, clutching the tablet.

“Thank you, Dad! I love you the most!”

Dad’s face was full of doting affection as he gently booped her nose.

“As long as Chloe’s happy, and she gets well faster, it’s worth whatever I buy.”

Mom was applying hand cream nearby.

A warm, comforting scent filled the room – the smell of home.

Only I felt out of place.

I stood there awkwardly, clutching the now slightly cool soup.

“You’re back?”

Dad glanced at me, his smile fading a bit.

He casually pulled a stale roll from a bag at his feet and tossed it to me.

“Haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

The roll was hard, hitting my chest with a dull thud that stung.

I looked down. It was the cheapest kind, with a bright yellow discount label on the packaging.

Close-to-expiration discount.

On Chloe’s bedside table, there was exquisite Tiramisu and imported milk.

Chloe and I were twins. She’d been frail since birth, so it was always taken for granted that all the family’s resources went to her first.

Including Mom and Dad’s love.

“Thanks, Dad.”

I whispered, bending down to pick up the roll.

It was good enough to have food to eat. Grandma Evelyn always said to be grateful for what you have.

“Dad.”

Chloe suddenly put down her tablet and pouted.

“I want a cake from that bakery down the street. My mouth feels bitter.”

Outside, the sky was dark and gloomy, and rain was pouring down.

Dad looked out the window, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

“Chloe, it’s raining too hard. What if we wait until it stops?”

Chloe’s eyes immediately welled up.

“No way! I want it now! *cough, cough, cough*...”

The moment she coughed, everyone panicked.

Mom quickly patted her back, and Dad paced nervously.

“Okay, okay, okay! Eat, eat, eat! Dad will go buy it right now!”

Dad reached for an umbrella, but his gaze fell on me in the corner, and he froze.

“Lily.”

Dad called my name. “Your sister wants cake. Go buy it.”

“Your mom and I need to stay with Chloe. You’re young and fast, a quick run won’t hurt.”

I froze for a moment, wanting to say I wasn't feeling well, wanting to say the rain was too heavy.

But seeing the look in Dad’s eyes, all my words caught in my throat.

“Okay.”

I set down the roll I’d just bitten into and walked out into the rain.

I didn't have an umbrella.

The only umbrella was by the door, but Dad hadn’t told me to take it.

And I didn’t dare.

The rain lashed down, making my head spin even more, the ground swaying beneath my feet.

But I couldn’t stop. I was afraid the bakery would close, afraid Mom would scold me for being useless.

The bakery down the street was three blocks from the hospital.

The water was above my ankles, my shoes filled with muddy water.

When I bought the cake, the owner, Mrs. Thompson, looked at me like I was crazy.

“Little girl, no umbrella in this heavy rain? Where are your parents?”

I forced a smile, but said nothing.

I clutched the cake to my chest, shielding it from the rain with my body.

On the way back, I ran too fast.

I slipped in a puddle, my knee hitting the pavement hard.

I anxiously checked the cake in my arms. Thankfully, the paper bag wasn’t torn, and the cake was fine.

I breathed a sigh of relief, limping my way back.

When I returned to the room, I was dripping wet.

“What took you so long!”

Mom hissed, keeping her voice low.

“Walking so loudly! Chloe just fell asleep!”

My hands, holding the cake, froze mid-air.

Dad sat on the sofa, scrolling on his phone, not even looking at me.

“Put it on the table. You’re soaking wet. Go dry off, don’t get Chloe sick.”

No one saw my bleeding knee.

No one asked if I was cold.

I quietly left the room, huddling on a chair in the hallway, staring at the cake abandoned on the table.

Chloe wouldn’t eat it when she woke up.

The thing I’d risked my life to get would probably end up in the trash.

Late at night, I looked at the mark on my wrist. A third of it was already burned away.