Before I knew it, I was at her bedside, staring down at her delicate, porcelain-doll face, the one that had always won people over so easily.
“Oh, my best friend,” she sighed dramatically. “I missed you so much. Scott told me everything, about how you’ve been taking care of me, and my brother, the house… thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done while I was gone… and now I’m here.”
The words tasted rotten.
My hand moved before my brain could stop it. I pushed her shoulder — not hard, but enough for her to stumble back against the pillows.
She gasped. “Sister… what did I do? Why did you push me?” She looked at Scott, wide-eyed.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Scott rounded on me, fury making his neck flush red. “Didn’t you see she’s still weak? She could’ve fallen! She’s hurt!”
I laughed dryly. “I’m hurt too, remember? Or did you forget? I didn’t push her. She pressed against me. It hurts.”
Scott’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t even say sorry nicely? Jasmine’s always been good to you—”
“Scott, don’t say that to my best friend,” Jasmine cut in with her soft, trembling voice, tears brimming like an actress on cue. “I didn’t know she was hurt. Nadine, I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.”
Scott folded his arms, the decision made. “Apologize to her, Nadine.”
“No,” I whispered.
His eyes darkened. “Then you’re leaving me no choice. I’ll lock you up in our house until you learn how to respect your own family.”
I felt the laugh bubbling up but it came out as a scoff instead. I could see it so clearly now — how he had shown me his true face the moment Jasmine opened her eyes. I was nothing again. Less than nothing.
“Lock me up then,” I muttered. I looked him straight in the eye. “You never even cared that I lost our child.”
His face twisted, not understanding the last words I said. “What did you say?”
But I was already walking away. He never cared to follow because Jasmine told him to let me go… I was just mad and would be okay in a while.
Well, I would never be okay.
When I got home, I went straight to the little altar I’d built for my father — and now, my baby. I lit a candle for the child I’d never get to meet, my hand steady even as the tears blurred my vision.
The ping of my phone startled me. It was my mother: Everything will be prepared in three days. The helicopter will be waiting with your fiance. Come home.