Chapter 3

"Yvonne, what's wrong? I came as soon as I heard you were in trouble. Are you alright?" Jason asked.

He walked in and went straight to Yvonne, putting his arm around her shoulder and comforting her in a soft voice.

With his support, Yvonne's sobs became even more heartbreaking.

I was so over this melodrama. Now that everyone was here, I decided to drop the act and cut straight to the point.

"It's been three days." I turned to Yvonne. "Have you figured it out? Are you calling the cops or getting rid of it?"

Yvonne, her breath hitching with sobs, looked up at me. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, anger blazing in her gaze.

She burst out, "How can you be so cruel? The baby I'm carrying is a living person. How could you even think about getting rid of it? I'm not letting it happen."

Jason looked stunned. "What baby? Yvonne, you..."

I jumped in to clarify, "She was raped three months ago, and now she's carrying that bastard's child. I told her to get an abortion, but she didn't listen.

"Jason, what do you think we should do? We'd better go to the cops, right?"

Before Jason could get a word out, Yvonne sprang up, her fingertips nearly jabbing at my face.

"Why are you being so mean? Are you doing this on purpose?" she snapped. "I've already been hurt enough, and now you have to bring it up all over again?

"And he was drunk, okay? He didn't mean it. He's only nineteen. If you go to the cops, his whole life will be ruined. Don't be so heartless."

She literally said the same thing in my previous life, not a single word different.

Back then, I was so floored that I almost choked on my breath.

What the hell was going on in her head? She got raped, and yet she was worried about the attacker? Was she out of her mind?

She had to be brainwashed, or maybe someone was threatening her. No way a normal person would say something this crazy.

I'd tried to talk to her patiently, hoping she'd realize what keeping this baby actually meant for her. But it was no use.

Every time I mentioned going to the police or getting an abortion, she'd flip out like she was having some kind of meltdown or trauma response.

She even blamed me for keeping bringing it up, saying I was trying to make her hurt on purpose.

Seriously? I was the one obsessing over it?

If Yvonne hadn't been making a scene every single day, Mom wouldn't have forced me to skip work and get put on round-the-clock watch, just in case Yvonne really did something crazy.

Now, watching Yvonne freak out, I couldn't care less.

"Whatever," I said coldly. "If you don't want to call the cops, fine. Wanna keep the baby? Go ahead. But since you've made your decision, quit crying about it every damn day.

"You can mooch off mom and dad at home, but I can't—I've got work to do. Oh, I've got a surgery this afternoon, so I'm heading out."

Mom and Yvonne stared at me in shock—they'd never seen me this tough before.

Only when I reached the door did Yvonne react. She burst out crying, "Mom, look at her..."

I slammed the door shut behind me, tuning out their shrieking.

I knew better than anyone why Yvonne called me back—she hoped I'd bankroll her and that kid.

Back in my previous life, she had latched onto me like a bloodsucking leech, draining not only my savings, but also pretty much my life away.

I still remember every last word Mom threw at me back then.

She had said, "Yvonne's carrying your nephew, you know. If you've got even a shred of conscience, you should be taking care of her.

"She's pregnant, so she can't work. You need to fork over 5 thousand a month for her and the kid to live on.

"She can't eat anything from outside now, so you've gotta cook for her every day.

"You better take time off work—don't go back until Yvonne has the baby and recovers.

"You're her sister—you're supposed to take care of her. If anything happens to her, it's on you."

She had totally seen me as Yvonne's full-time servant.

There was no way I'd put up with those ridiculous demands, so I had flat-out refused.

But Mom and Yvonne didn't care about my opinion one bit—they literally broke the lock, barged into my apartment, and started living there like it was theirs.

Those days were hell, and I was so overwhelmed I almost hit my breaking point.

Yvonne was a nightmare to look after—she lounged at my place all day, living the life of a freeloading empress, expecting everything on a silver platter.

And if anything didn't go exactly her way, she'd call Mom in a heartbeat and complain.

Once she started sobbing, Mom would go off on me, screaming and even smacking me around.

She'd say I was being petty, that I shouldn't be arguing with a pregnant woman.

It was not like I was the one who got her pregnant.

Good thing I had a boyfriend who volunteered to play the ultimate sucker—only then did I finally get a moment to catch my breath.

This time, I needed to get ahead of things.

Since Jason was so keen on taking care of Yvonne, I might as well hand him the job.