Sometimes, when a lie is acted out too well, even I start to believe it.
He pulled me gently into his arms, his voice unbelievably tender.
"I paid a hefty price to bring in an experienced doctor. He'll start the treatment on your hand soon and help restore your health. Once you're better, we can try for a baby. And when that time comes, you can teach our child to play the piano. Wouldn't that be nice?"
Faced with Carl's affectionate concern, I simply offered a faint smile.
Noticing something off about my reaction, his brows furrowed. "What's wrong? Did someone say something unpleasant to you?"
"Yes," I replied. "I overheard someone at home calling me a cripple."
Carl's expression turned ice-cold in an instant. His gaze swept sharply across the room. "Who?"
I glanced at Iris.
She caught the look and instantly exploded, jabbing her finger at me. "Did I say anything wrong? You are a cripple! And now you dare nitpick at me after marrying into our family?"
The next second, Carl's hand moved like lightning, and he snapped one of her fingers.
The room filled with her anguished screams.
"Carl, how could you do this for some—"
But she stopped herself before finishing the word cripple. Clutching her hand, tears streamed down her face as pain nearly made her faint.
Carl stood there coldly, watching his sister writhe. His voice was devoid of emotion.
"I've let you off too easily in the past. If you ever say that to Reily again, I'll break your whole hand."
I watched it all unfold, and in that moment, I found Carl terrifyingly unfamiliar.
He spoke and acted like he was protecting me, even to the point of breaking his own sister's finger. Anyone unaware of the truth would've thought he loved me deeply.
But I knew better. Every move he made was simply to cover up his carefully constructed lies. What we once had… was long gone.
Ever since the tendons in my hands were severed, my fingers throbbed painfully with every spell of cold or rain.
Carl saw it, of course. Every time, he'd hold my hands in his and whisper sweet reassurances, promising he'd find the best doctors to heal me.
For a long time, I believed meeting him was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me. I thought no matter what happened, he'd always be there, standing behind me, shielding me from harm.
Never did I imagine that the very man I trusted would be the one to push me into that terrible nightmare.
And now, with Lucy's eyes injured, he wanted my corneas to replace hers, just so she could fulfill her dream of becoming the world's top pianist.
"Reily, what are you thinking about?" Carl's gentle voice snapped me back to reality. "I've punished Iris. Come on, don't stay angry."
"I'm not angry anymore," I replied. "It's just… my hands have only just recovered, and I still can't seem to play properly."
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, smiling with indulgent warmth. "If you can't play well, then no one can."
I lowered my eyes, burying my emotions, then used the excuse of being tired to head to bed.
Deep into the night, I stared at Carl's sleeping face beside me. He looked so handsome, so perfect. Who would ever guess such cruelty lurked behind it?
I quietly got out of bed and unlocked his phone using his fingerprint.
His wallpaper was a photo of Lucy.
In the picture, she wore an elegant evening gown, seated at a grand piano, beaming as she held the World Piano Masters trophy in her hands.
That trophy… should have been mine.
A sour ache rose in my chest, and I couldn't stop the tears from spilling onto the phone screen.
Wiping them away, I steadied myself and opened the chat log between Carl and Lucy.
Lucy: [Carl, Reily is your wife. Are you really willing to give me her corneas?]
Carl: [You saved my life in that fire when we were kids. For you, I'd do anything. Don't feel guilty. If Reily loses her sight, I'll take care of her for the rest of her life.]
Suddenly, a memory from twenty years ago surfaced in my mind.
Back then, I had traveled overseas to compete in a children's piano competition, never expecting the hotel to catch fire in the middle of the night.
