"Caroline's in her third trimester. She's been living alone, and I don't feel right about that."
"I'm bringing her here tomorrow."
The last pretense had been ripped away. He didn't even bother hiding it anymore.
The next day, he did exactly as he said.
Caroline's belly was swollen high and round, her face glowing with undisguised delight.
When her gaze met mine, a provocative smile curled across her lips.
"Hey, sis. Which room am I sleeping in?"
Sis. Two syllables. Enough to make me grind my teeth to dust.
I would never forget the day she and my stepmother first came to our house. The sun had been bright, and she had called me sis in that same sugary voice.
Then, moments later, my mother became a pool of blood on the lawn below.
"Ruth, remember to keep your eyes open from now on. Don't end up like me."
She said those words. Then she jumped, right in front of me.
After that came the nightmares. Endless, unrelenting nightmares.
And now, here stood Caroline, clinging to my husband's arm, standing in my home, smiling at me with that same provocation in her eyes.
"Sis, the guest room's a little small. I'd rather have the master bedroom."
No one waited for my answer.
The moment the words left her mouth, Lance waved his hand, and a team of workers swarmed in, hauling my belongings out of the master bedroom one by one.
Everything crashed and scattered across the floor.
He held Caroline by the arm, guiding her carefully to the edge of the bed, making sure she was settled.
The jade bracelet on the nightstand caught Caroline's eye.
The jade was luminous, well cared for, clearly treasured.
She picked it up and turned it over in her fingers. Then, as if her hand had simply slipped, she let go.
I was already running before I realized it, lunging forward to catch it, but I was a step too late.
The sound of jade shattering exploded in my ears.
I stood with my head bowed. Tears fell, one by one, hitting the floor.
A blinding rage surged through me. I swung my arm toward Caroline.
"That was the only thing my mother left me!"
But before I could get close, Lance stepped forward, seized my arm, and shoved me backward.
I fell hard, landing in the pile of broken shards. The jagged pieces bit into my palms, and blood welled up instantly, pooling between my fingers.
This was the same Lance who used to fuss over the tiniest paper cut on my hand, blowing on it for ages. Now he just furrowed his brow and spoke in a tone so casual he might as well have been deciding what to have for dinner.
"It's just a bracelet. I'll take you to buy a nicer one next time."
"Lashing out at Caroline over something like that isn't worth it."
I picked myself up off the floor and carefully gathered the blood-smeared shards into the hem of my shirt.
But one of the workers stumbled, his elbow catching me square in the back. The fragments spilled across the floor all over again.
I couldn't hold it in any longer. I collapsed to my knees and sobbed, broken and heaving, my face pressed against the cold floor.
After everything that had happened, I came down with a high fever that night.
Through the haze, I felt a pair of hands gently wiping the sweat from my face, pressing a cool, damp cloth to my forehead.
I was fourteen again. I hadn't cleaned the staircase well enough, and my stepmother had made me kneel outside in the snow in the dead of winter.
Her expression was venomous.
"I've raised you all this time, and you can't even handle something this simple."
My father deliberately avoided my pleading eyes, pretending he saw nothing.
Halfway through the punishment, a basin of foul, freezing water hit me full in the face, soaking me to the bone.
Caroline stood on the second-floor balcony, bundled in a thick padded coat, her hands in fuzzy mittens still gripping the empty basin.
"You looked like you were falling asleep. Thought I'd help wake you up."
It was Lance who found me in the end. He carried me home and forced bowl after bowl of fever medicine down my throat, pulling me back from the edge.
He cradled my fingers, swollen and red from the ice water, and his eyes brimmed with heartache.
Through the fever's blur, I opened my eyes. The boy from that memory dissolved, replaced by the cold, silent stranger standing before me now.
