Chapter 1"I'm so done with Blair," my husband said. "Dead weight. I wish she'd died in that fire."
My sister pressed against his chest and grinned. "If she hears this—"
"She wouldn't dare. She should be grateful. If she had any sense, she'd DISAPPEAR."
I froze in the hallway. The words slammed into my chest. I wanted to burst in, scream, break things.
Then I looked down at the oncology report in my hand. And I smiled.
TOO BAD—I heard everything. I have my memory, and I have a PLAN.
I pushed the door open. They jumped apart. Her smirk vanished. He went pale.
"You want my spot? Just take it."
Then I dropped the report on the floor and walked out.
Whatever, let them keep the ring, the house, the kid.
As for their reputation, future and freedom? I will TAKE IT ALL.
--
"I'm so done with Blair," Reid Marchetti said, his voice flat.
"She's dead weight. Honestly, I wish she'd died in that fire when she was twelve. Would've saved us all the trouble."
"Can you believe she actually tried to compete with me for the gallery? The nerve."
Reid didn't bother hiding the disgust on his face.
My sister, Sutton Carver, pressed against his chest and grinned.
"If Blair hears this, she'll come after me again."
Reid's expression turned icy.
"She wouldn't dare. So what if she finds out? We've put up with her for years. That woman should be grateful. If she had any sense, she'd just disappear."
I froze. The words hit me like a punch to the chest.
If I hadn't wandered down this corridor, I would've died never knowing the truth.
I bit my lip hard, wanting to storm in and scream at them.
But then my eyes dropped to the oncology report in my hand. And I smiled.
Ten years ago, I saved Reid from that hotel fire. I never expected marriage in return.
If I'd known the truth, I wouldn't have done IVF for him.
And I definitely wouldn't have convinced myself he loved me.
None of it mattered now. I was dying anyway.
Sutton swayed suddenly. Panic flashed across Reid's face, and without thinking, he scooped her up and rushed her back to the ward.
I followed behind and watched my parents, Elias and Camille, grab the doctor.
"Doctor, our daughter isn't feeling well! Please check on her!"
The doctor said she was fine, and the three of them exhaled with relief. Only then did they notice me in the corner.
Reid shot a cold look at the report in my hand.
"What did the doctor say?"
I gave a faint smile.
"Everything's good."
For once, Reid actually explained himself.
"Things were urgent back then. Sutton couldn't wait. I couldn't just stand by and let her die."
My mom hesitated.
"Blair, you're not mad at us, are you?"
When I didn't answer, she snapped.
"Blair, you are so heartless! Sutton's your SISTER!"
My dad chimed in.
"That's enough! Ever since you came back, this family hasn't had a moment's peace. You're always fighting with Sutton over everything. And now it's her life! Can you just stop?"
My five-year-old son, Mason, stormed over. He slammed his head into my stomach and pounded me with his tiny fists.
"Bad mommy! You made Sutton sick! I don't want you—I want Sutton to be my mom!"
Their words cut like broken glass. I stumbled back, biting my lip to steady myself.
When they finally ran out of steam, I gently shook my head.
"I'm not mad. The doctor said we'd get some good news in seven days."
I paused, my voice hoarse.
"And it'll be good for all of us."
Chapter 2
Everyone exhaled, and the tension in the room melted away. Reid's jaw unclenched.
"See? Your tests came back clean. Eighteen years of that weak immune system, and you're still standing. You'll be fine."
"Just hold on a little longer. We'll find you a donor match, I promise."
My dad, Elias, tucked the blanket around Sutton like she was made of glass. Pride beamed across his face.
"Sutton's always been our lucky charm. Without her, you wouldn't have made it this far, Blair. You should be thanking her."
My mom, Camille, handed Sutton a peeled orange slice and shot me a look dripping with annoyance.
"Unlike some people who make a scene at the hospital over nothing, dragging the Carver name through the mud."
Reid glanced at me, head down, and for half a second I caught something soft in his eyes.
"That's enough. Mom, Dad, drop it."
My heart stuttered. I looked up, hope flickering in my chest.
Then he added, "Let's not let this stuff get in the way of Sutton's recovery."
I let out a bitter laugh.
Of course. Why would he ever take my side? Every scrap of kindness he had was always reserved for Sutton.
I grabbed a handful of jelly beans from the table and held them out to Mason.
"Hey, buddy. Do you really want Sutton to be your mom that badly?"
He blinked at me, then nodded without hesitation.
I used to limit his sugar intake, made him eat his vegetables first. Guess that just made him resent me more.
I ruffled his hair one last time and forced a small laugh.
"Okay then. From now on, Sutton's your mom."
Silence hit the room like a brick.
Then, all at once, everyone started saying how mature I'd finally become, how I'd grown up at last.
I didn't respond. I just turned and walked out of the ward.
Because I knew—no one wanted me there.
And if I stayed even thirty more seconds, Sutton would suddenly feel dizzy again, and it would somehow be my fault.
I dragged myself home. The second I stepped through the door, I saw Reid was already there.
He was standing in the master bedroom, telling our housekeeper, Mrs. Cork, to clear out my stuff.
My clothes lay scattered on the floor, stepped on like garbage.
Even my lingerie was smeared with something sticky I didn't want to identify.
Reid said, "Sutton just got out of the hospital. She needs someone around the clock. If she takes the master, I can keep an eye on her from the guest room next door."
I forced a numb smile. His favoritism couldn't be more obvious.
Mrs. Cork shot me a sour look but kept hauling my things.
"You can take the storage room downstairs. You really think just because you married Mr. Marchetti, you're suddenly somebody? Get real."
"Pack your junk and stop freeloading off decent people's generosity—"
"Fine." I cut her off.
She paused, surprised. Normally I'd fight back, argue until I was blue in the face. But today? I just nodded.
I was so weak it took me nearly five hours to move everything into that cramped, dusty storage room.
The bed was narrow, the sheets smelled like mildew. I collapsed onto it and sank into black sleep.
I didn't even dream.
Then, a loud bang jolted me awake. Someone kicked the door open.
Chapter 3
"Blair, I need to heal. So get in that kitchen and make me bone broth."
Sutton didn't even look at me. Just waved her hand at Mrs. Cork, who yanked me off the mattress.
I nodded. I remembered what happened the last time I said no to Sutton.
They made me kneel on shattered glass in the foyer for three hours while she sat on the stairs crying about how "cruel" I was.
I scrambled up, still dizzy, and stumbled to the kitchen.
First attempt, Sutton took one sip and slapped me across the face so hard my ears rang.
"Are you trying to poison me? This is boiling!"
Second attempt, she hurled the spoon at my forehead. I felt it split skin, felt warm blood trickle down my brow.
"Do you want me to choke on salt, you idiot?"
Third attempt, she deliberately tipped the whole bowl over her own wrist and let out a shriek that could wake the dead.
Reid came barreling in, grabbed her, pulled her behind him like a shield.
Sutton's eyes went red and watery, her face crumpled with practiced hurt.
"Blair... do you hate me that much? I can just leave if I'm such a burden... Why are you making this so hard?"
"Reid, don't blame her. She's probably still upset about the transplant. It makes sense she'd want to hit me, scream at me. If it helps her feel better..."
Reid's glare cut through me like ice water.
"If you love wasting food so much, you can skip dinner tonight."
And just like that, the kitchen was off-limits.
That night, I licked my cracked lips, stuck my head under the faucet, and cupped cold tap water into my mouth. I gulped it down desperately.
The second it hit my throat, my stomach seized. I doubled over, coughing, gagging—until dark red splattered across the white sink.
I wiped it up with paper towels, stuffed them deep in the trash, and crawled back to my storage room.
When I woke, Reid was sitting on the edge of my cot. His hand brushed the sweat off my forehead, gentle. His brows were pinched with worry.
"Why didn't you tell me you had a fever? What would Mason and I do if something happened to you? Does it hurt?"
He pressed a Band-Aid over the cut on my forehead, blew softly, like he actually cared.
His voice was warm now, tender—like he wasn't the same man who starved me last night.
Then Mrs. Cork burst in, breathless.
"Mr. Marchetti—Ms. Carver is feeling faint again. You need to come now."
Reid didn't hesitate. He dropped my hand and bolted.
I let out a quiet laugh. What was I even hoping for?
Not ten minutes later, the door slammed open. Reid grabbed me by the throat, shoving me against the wall. His voice was venomous.
"Did you post that? On your little art blog? You're out there saying Sutton seduced her own brother-in-law?"
"That she stole the gallery from you? You put pictures of us online? What the hell is wrong with you? Do you hate her that much?"
I closed my eyes. I didn't have the energy to fight. Guilty or innocent—it didn't matter. They'd already decided.
Then his grip loosened. His voice shifted, softer now, almost panicked.
"Sutton just had surgery. She can't take any stress right now. Go apologize to her. Now. And we'll forget this ever happened."
I opened my eyes. Looked at him. Said, flat and quiet, "Okay."
He froze. His eyes searched my face for a second, something unreadable flickering in them.
I used to scream back. Used to plead, explain, cry until my throat was raw. But now?
Even if I'd done nothing wrong, I didn't have the strength to defend myself anymore.
I just walked past him toward Sutton's room.
