Chapter 4
When Nettie returned to Beaumont Mansion, she found Charis waiting at the door
‘was swept up in a perfect ballerina’s bun, just th
the
Charis was wearing a pale blue dress–Nettie’s favorite once upon a time–and her hair’v way Nettie used to wear it
“Sis!” Charis hurried over, her face painted with a cloying concem. “I’m so sorry, the competition kept me so busy I couldn’t visit sooner.”
Calvin and Hurst’s eyes instantly lit up
“How did it go?”
Charis bounced into the living room, cradling a gleaming trophy. “First place! The judges said my performance was flawless!”
Nettie stared at the trophy–the one that should have been hers. A phantom pain stabbed through her left leg, and she remembered her last time on stage, bathed in the glow of the spotlight, poised like a swan about to take flight.!!
Now, thanks to her own brother and her fiancé, even standing up had become a distant dream.
The three of them gathered around the trophy, laughing and chatting, as if the girl in the wheelchair didn’t exist at all.
Nettie wheeled herself toward the elevator. Charis hurried after her, reaching out to help. “Let me,
sis…
As they reached the third floor, Charis suddenly leaned in and hissed into her ear, “You’re disgusting, you know that? Still dragging around that urine bag. Do you think Hurst will be able to stand your stench if he ever touches you again?”
Nettie went pale, stunned silent. But before she could react, Charis suddenly shrieked, “Don’t, sis!” and threw herself backward, tumbling down the stairs like a broken–winged butterfly.
“Charis Rogers!”
“What happened?!
Calvin and Hurst came running. Charis w
just upset… She asked why my legs are fine when hers are broken, why I can still dance. T
was curled up at the bottom of the stairs, sobbing. “Don’t blame her. It’s not Nettie’s fault… She’s
“Nettiel Are you out of your mind?!”
Calvin seized the wheelchair’s handles so hard the metal groaned under his grip.
He leaned in, the eyes that once looked at her with warmth now blazing with fury, “Do you even understand what legs mean to a dancer?” Nettle looked up at her brother and suddenly smiled.
It didn’t reach her eyes; if anything, it made her pale face look even more haggard.!!
legs. “You know exactly what they mean.”
“So you do know,” she murmured, her fingers unconsciously brushing over her lifeless leg Hurst stood silently nearby, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but when he caught sight of Charis’s swollen ankle, he shut it again.!
“Apologize, Calvin said, his voice cold as ice. “Apologize to Charis Rogers. Now,”
Nettie straightened her back in the wheelchair, just as she had a thousand times before on stage. “Why should 17 She
The air froze
Charis let out a shuddering sob, limping forward. “It’s alright, Calvin… She’s not herself right now, I understand
e did it to herself.”
“Chans Rogers!” Calvin wrapped an arm around her, his voice thick with pity. “You’re just too kind for your own good.”
Nettie spun her wheelchair away, the metal wheels screaming against the marble floor!!
She couldn’t stand to watch this farce any longer, or see the smug glint in Charis’s eyes. Night descended.
Nettle leaned against her headboard, staring at the pale moonlight outside her window.l
The door creaked open. Hurst walked in, carrying a glass of milk,
“Nettle, have some milk. It’ll help you sleep” He set the glass on the nightstand, his tone gentle. “Be good, make sure you drink it alla
The moment the door closed behind him, Nettie’s eyes turned cold as ice
She picked up the glass and, without a second thought, poured the milk into the potted plant by her bed.
Sometime after midnight, a faint rustling dragged her from shallow sleep.
She squinted, spotting a shadow by her bed.
“Nettie? Hurst’s voice was barely audible
Nettie held her breath, body stiff as a corpse.
When she didn’t respond, a pair of rough hands seized her, yanking her upright. A burlap sack came down over her head 8
She gasped, instinctively struggling, but was thrown hard to the floor.”
Agony shot up her spine as it crashed against the ground, making her vision swim. She bit her lip, refusing to cry out.8
“Calvin, isn’t this going too far?” Hurst’s voice trembled. “Her legs are already like this and you still want me to drug her, drag her here just to back Charis up?”
“Feeling sony for her now?” Calvin’s cold laugh cut through Nettie like a knife. “She didn’t hesitate when she pushed Charis Rogers, did she? She can’t feel pain in her legs anyway–let’s give her a lesson she won’t forget“}
The rough burlap scraped Nettie’s skin as she clenched her fists.”
They were right–her legs couldn’t feel a thing. But her heart felt like it was being tom in two.
“Do it” Calvin ordered, his voice ley.
The first blow landed, and Nettie heard a dull crack from her leg.
The second. The third.
She was tossed and beaten like a rag doll.
A strangled cry finally escaped her lips, muffled by gritted teeth.
The blows stopped.
“Who’s there?!” Calvin barked, voice suddenly sharp.2
A trembling hand grasped the edge of the sack, slowly peeling it away from Nettie’s head…
“Mee–ow–17:
