Chapter 7
All my childhood photo albums, art supplies, and dolls had vanished without a trace.
"Your stuff's in the basement storage room," William said.
He walked up behind me. "Leila's got a bad heart, so it's easier to take care of her on the first floor.
"You're hardly home, so leaving your room empty is a waste."
He pointed upstairs. "The guest room gets more light and is bigger anyway."
He said it was a better room.
And it was a guest room.
I didn't argue.
Before long, I wouldn't even count as a guest here.
The day after I returned to the Finch family, an invitation for the opening of Leila Rehabilitation Center arrived at the house.
It was the clinic my parents built.
When I was a kid, William held my hand under the leaky roof and told me he'd turn this place into the best rare disease center in the world.
He'd be the one saving lives.
I'd be the one painting stars on the walls and filling the whole yard with flowers.
More than ten years later, the hospital was finally built.
The walls still had stars, but the signature on the design draft had been replaced with Leila's name.
I once asked William why he had to use her name.
William replied, "Leila was the first patient to survive with this new method.
"Using her name makes it easier for people to remember this hospital.
"Emilia, it's just a name. It's not as important as you think."
That treatment saved Leila's life. Later, she had a device implanted in her heart.
Most of the time, she could live a normal life, go to work, and go out as usual. Her life was only at risk if the device failed or if she became too emotionally overwhelmed.
It wasn't until later that I realized a name was never only a name.
The old clinic my parents left behind, the treatment records named after me, and a share of the hospital's assets were all rightfully mine.
But according to the documents my parents left, those things would only officially be mine if William publicly acknowledged me as the Finch family's daughter. If I couldn't make decisions for myself, he'd keep them for now.
All these years, he refused to make my identity public and kept everything that was mine for himself.
He always said he'd sort it out once the project was stable.
But on the day the hospital opened, with everyone watching, he was going to hand over the highest honor to Leila.
Suddenly, the system flashed, letting me see the hospital room from my real world.
My real brother was sitting next to my bed, head down, trimming my overgrown nails.
There were dark circles under his eyes from countless sleepless nights, but his movements were so gentle, like he was afraid to wake me.
I watched him for a while, and the corners of my mouth slowly curled up into a smile.
In the other world, my brother's only worry was that I'd wake up and find no one by my side.
The system whispered to me, [Your body is still weak.
[If you stop letting them try to save you, you can still leave.]
I looked down at the medical bracelet on my wrist.
This time, I wasn't searching for some dramatic escape.
After being dragged back from the edge of death twice, my body was already worn out.
William kept an eye on me through the bracelet, ready to call for help the second anything seemed off.
This time, I wasn't going to do anything to harm myself.
I refused to let them keep me around any longer.
I took off the bracelet and put it away in the cabinet where they kept medical devices.
Then I put on a fresh white dress, did my hair, and headed to my parents' old clinic.
Once the bracelet was off my skin, William couldn't monitor my condition anymore.
With the bracelet sitting in the equipment cabinet, it would only show up as being serviced, no alarms, no warnings.
William always trusted the numbers on the machines.
This time, the machine would make him think everything was normal.
The unveiling ceremony was happening in the front yard.
Through the wall, I could hear the media's applause.
The host was singing Leila's praises, sharing how she nearly died and then became an exceptional girl working at the hospital.
No one would notice this old clinic that was about to be torn down.
I lay down on the bed my dad once used, and the system began its countdown in my ears.
The hospital room from my real world slowly came into focus.
Will was sitting by my bedside.
"Will," I called out softly. "I'll be back soon."
The applause in the front yard suddenly paused for a moment.
The host, grinning brightly, called William up to pin the badge of highest honor on Leila.
A few seconds later, the sound of a chair being knocked over suddenly came through the loudspeaker.
The door to the old clinic burst open.
William stood in the doorway.
Behind him came a rush of footsteps, reporters shouting questions, and Leila's voice trembling with tears.
But he didn't look back.
He looked at me, and the calm on his face slowly broke apart, piece by piece.
"Emily," he called out.
William rushed over, fell to his knees beside the bed, and gripped my hand tightly.
"I'm here, Emily," he said.
The smile faded from my face.
"I wasn't calling for you," I said quietly.
His fingers shook hard.
William had pulled countless patients back from the edge, saving lives when hope was almost gone.
Never once had he failed. He never made a single mistake.