Chapter 3

I froze, then sneered, "She had it coming!"

Slap!

Another sharp blow, but this time, it wasn't Vincent. It was my son, Luke.

He glared at me with pure hatred. "You hurt Aunt Tessa. You made her lose the baby. You're evil! I don't want you as my mother anymore! And this…"

He pulled out the family portrait I had drawn for him, flicked open a lighter, and set it ablaze.

"I don't want it anymore!"

I stared, numb, as he stomped on the charred, curling fragments, grinding them into the floor. Each stomp was a physical blow, shattering my heart into a thousand pieces.

That portrait… I had drawn it for him right after Vincent's car accident.

I could still hear his little voice.

"Mommy, I'm sorry I ran off. I'm sorry the glass cut you when you protected me."

"Mommy is the best mommy in the whole world! I'll treasure this drawing forever, just like I treasure you!"

The memory collided with the horror in front of me.

A wave of despair washed over me, and I began to tremble uncontrollably.

"Vincent," I choked out, "after all these years… you’re going to destroy me? Destroy my sister? For her?"

Vincent's brows furrowed in annoyance. "Drive you to your death?"

"Isabella, stop being so dramatic. I already had my men release your sister."

“As for you… you're donating a lobe of your lung to Tessa. It won't kill you.”

Luke clapped his hands. "That's right! It won't kill you, so you have to do it! Give Aunt Tessa your lung!"

"Doctor! She's here! Get her prepped for surgery now!"

There were too many of them. I couldn't fight.

I could only watch helplessly as they strapped me to a gurney and injected the anesthetic into my arm.

"Vincent…"

He just watched me, his face a cold mask.

The drugs pulled me under. I fought it, but consciousness slipped away.

When I woke up again, Vincent and Luke were gone.

"Mila…"

Fighting a wave of searing pain, I sat up, threw off the thin blanket, and clutched my fresh wound. I staggered out of the room and out of the hospital.

In the cold storage, A stiff, lifeless body met my eyes.

I froze.

A high-pitched ringing filled my ears. Grief choked the air from my lungs, silencing the scream in my throat.

Tears streamed down my face.

In a daze, I walked back out of the cold storage, grabbed a crowbar from a nearby toolbox, and stumbled back inside. I pried at the heavy lock until the iron chains that had bound my sister fell away.

The moment the chains went slack, her body slumped to the floor.

I dropped the crowbar with a clatter and gathered my sister's cold, stiff body into my arms.

"Mila, I was too late, wasn't I?"

"It's okay. I'm taking you home now."

With those words, I gritted my teeth against the fire in my chest and struggled to lift her onto my back.

Thud!

The pain was too much. I lost my balance, and my sister’s body fell heavily to the ground.

"I'm so sorry, Mila!" I cried, squatting down to try again.

But as I leaned in, I saw it. A maggot crawling from her ear.

It was the final, grisly proof. My sister was gone.

The anguish I'd been holding back erupted from my soul. Clutching my sister, I let out a raw, piercing scream.

"Aaaahhhhh!"

Before I could pull myself from my grief, a figure stepped into the cold storage.

I turned my head. It was Tessa.

She was glowing with health, looking nothing like someone who had just lost a child and undergone major surgery.

"Tsk, tsk. Your sister died so horribly…" She clicked her tongue. "But don't blame me. You're the one who killed her. This has nothing to do with me."

Rage propelled me to my feet. I lunged at her again.

Thud!

This time, Tessa kicked me to the ground.

She smirked down at me, defiant. "You're a complete wreck. You really think you can fight me?"

Fresh blood seeped from my wound, the pain so intense my body spasmed.

Seeing me helpless on the floor, Tessa just shook her head. Then she picked up a glass bottle she’d brought with her, uncapped it, and began to pour the liquid all over Mila's body.

It’s concentrated sulfuric acid.

My eyes flew wide. "Tessa! What the hell are you doing!" I shrieked.

Tessa just chuckled softly. She took out a second bottle, opened it, and gently tipped it over.

Sizzle!

The corrosive liquid spread rapidly over Mila's body.

My vision turned red. With a final, desperate surge of strength, I launched myself at Tessa, tackling her to the ground. I grabbed a nearby iron rod, ready to end us both.

"Isabella!"

Just then, Vincent and Luke burst in.

In their hands, they held a black urn.

My mother's urn.