Chapter 7
The days that followed felt absurd, like a farce playing out in slow motion.
Every day, Calvin arrived with a fresh offering–sometimes a rare collectible toy, sometimes a slice of strawberry shortcake, the kind she’d loved as a child
Hurst refused to leave her side, tending to her every need, even testing her medicine to make sure the temperature was just right before handing it over?
They smiled at her with such gentle affection, as if those years spent favoring Charis had never happened, as if all the wounds they’d inflicted on Nettie were nothing but a bad dream she needed to wake from.
But Nettie just watched in silence, as if she were an audience member at a terribly acted play.
Her heart had already withered, killed the moment she learned the truth.
Now, she waited for a single opportunity-
The chance to rise again, offered by that medical research institute.
A week later, Nettie was discharged.
Calvin and Hurst fussed over her like she was made of glass, seeing her out of the hospital and back home.
Once she was safely in her room, Hurst knelt in front of her, his voice warm and careful. “Nettie, all those tests must have worn you out. Why don’t you lie down and rest for a while? Calvin and I are going to pick up your favorite dessert from that little bakery you loved as a kid. When you wake up, you can have some.”
She didn’t respond.
Hurst sighed, gently ruffled her hair, then turned and left
Not long after they’d gone, the door swung open again.
This time, it was Charis 3
“Nettie” Her lips curled into a cold smile, a sharp contrast to the sweet persona she usually wore. “I really underestimated you.”
Nettle leaned against the headboard, her pale face as unreadable as
is stone.
“I’ve always envied you, you know.” Charis traced her fingers along the jewelry box on the vanity. “The golden girl-pretty, graceful, the perfect dancer. Even when you cried, you looked better than me.”
Suddenly, Charis grabbed a fistful of jewelry and hurled it at the mirror shattering the glass. “Why you? Why always you?”
Her face twisted with rage. I stole your scholarship, your chance to study abroad, even your precious dance trophy…“2
She leaned in, squeezing Nettie’s chin. “But in their hearts, it’s still you they care about!”
For the first time, Nettle raised her eyes to meet Charis’s. “So what now? Are you here to kill me?“}
Charis laughed, the sound brittle and cruel. She patted Nettie’s cheek with manicured, bubblegum–pink nails. “No, that would be too easy. I want you to wish you were dead.”
With a snap of her fingers, five or six thugs burst through the door.
Charis ripped open her own collar, tangled her hair, and ran screaming into the hallway. “Help! Calvin! Hurst!”
Calvin was the first to come crashing in.
The dessert box slipped from his hands, scattering sugar–dusted pastries across the floor
Hurst followed close behind. When he saw the o chaos, his car keys slipped from his grasp and hit the ground with a metallic clatter
“Calvin, Hurst,” Charis sobbed, throwing herself into their arms, trembling like a leaf in the wind. “She–she called those men to hurt me. Nettie said she wanted me to suffer like she does…
“Smack!”
Calvin’s slap rang out, the sound echoing in Nettie’s ears. Blood welled at the corner of her mouth, but she felt nothing.
“Are
something sa vile?”
è you insane?” Calvin’s voice sounded distant, distorted. “You brought these thugs here to attack Charis? How could you do
Hurst’s look of disappointment cut deeper than the blow. “Nettie, is what Charis says true? I hardly recognize you anymore.”
Nettle wiped the blood from her lips and looked up at them, her gaze steady. “There’s a security camera in this room. If you want the truth, why don’t you watch the footage?”
Both men froze.
