Another strike. And another. The sound echoed, mixing with quiet laughter around me. It hurt so much I couldn’t think, but something inside me refused to bend. I started laughing, I didn’t even know why, tears falling at the same time.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, my voice hoarse but stubborn. “Why should I admit to something I didn’t do?” I looked at him, my chest tight. “The biggest mistake I ever made was meeting you. Argus… you’re the most disgusting person I’ve ever known.”
His expression darkened instantly.
“And you,” I turned to Celine, my voice colder, “what are you pretending for? Who do you think you are? Without him, you’re nothing.”
“Dahlia,” she frowned, her voice trembling, “don’t talk about him like that. You don’t have the right—”
“Shut up,” I snapped. “You think you’re better than me? You’re just as pathetic.”
The whip came down harder this time.
“Shut up!” Argus shouted, completely losing control.
“This one is for Grandpa,” he said coldly as the whip struck again.
“This one is for what you did to Celine.”
“This one is to remind you who you are. Don’t ever think you can stand next to me.”
The strikes kept coming, one after another, until I lost count. Every hit felt like it tore through my skin and deeper into something I couldn’t protect. My throat filled with a metallic taste and I coughed, blood spilling out. My vision blurred, everything spinning.
So this was it?
Was this how it ended?
My body gave out, and everything went dark.
…
When I woke up, I was in a hospital room. The TV was on, looping the footage of me being whipped. Every grunt, every groan I’d made in pain was turned into entertainment for them.
My back was raw, blood mixed with spilled liquor, and I felt like a lump of mud left in a corner. The bar owner had found me, barely alive, and dragged me out. I couldn’t even cry. Nothing came out.
The door opened slowly and Celine walked in. She looked fine, rosy cheeks, like nothing had happened. “Those two weeks in the hospital,” I said, bitter, “you faked it, didn’t you?”
“So what?” she said, tossing a plastic bag at me. “As long as I look pitiful, Argus will do everything for me. Soon I’ll stand by his side like I’m supposed to.” I caught the bag and froze. Inside was my father’s urn. My hands shook as I opened it. Empty. Completely empty.
“What… what did you do? Where’s my father?” I yelled.