I looked away, voice hoarse. “It never mattered, did it?”
He didn’t answer. He just tossed the phone back onto the side table, already bored. “Never mind that. Get up. You’re being discharged today.”
I blinked. “What? I’m not ready — I can’t even walk properly yet.”
“So what?” His tone turned sharp. “You’re needed at home. Your mother’s birthday party needs arranging. You know how she is, and Nadia and I don’t have time to handle it.”
My mouth dropped open. “Xander, I can barely stand! And I’m not apologizing to Nadia. She gave me shrimp on purpose, she knew I was allergic—”
He rolled his eyes so dramatically it made my blood boil. “There you go again, always blaming someone else. You’re so stubborn, Lauren. This is exactly why you’ve never been at her level. She’s everything you’re not — useful, graceful, wanted. You? You should’ve died instead of our child.”
His words punched the air out of my lungs. But before I could find something — anything — to throw back at him, the door swung open.
Nadia drifted in, her soft fake smile plastered onto her perfect lips. She carried a bouquet of lilies, my least favorite flower, and cooed, “How are you feeling, sister? Do you need anything? We were so worried.”
I stared right through her, the rage in my chest a furnace. I was done pretending.
Xander’s hand pressed down hard on my shoulder. “Apologize to her, Lauren. Right now.”
“No.”
His grip tightened, nails digging into my skin. “Apologize.”
Nadia tilted her head, pouting. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Just say sorry, Lauren. I forgive you.”
Forgive me. For what? For surviving? For watching my baby die while they planned their perfect life?
I bit down the scream building in my throat and said nothing. No tears this time. Just cold silence. That seemed to annoy them more than any begging would have.
“Fine,” Xander snapped. “Be that way. But you’re still coming home to plan Mother’s party. You owe us that much.”
They dragged me out of the hospital before the nurse could even check my bandages properly. Back at the house, they left me in the guest room to recover — but I knew better. I was nothing more than a maid with a ruined womb and a name they could blame for their messes.