"I bought these just for you. Take them and come eat—everyone's waiting. It's the Lantern Festival! The whole family has to eat together."
In my past life, I hadn't wanted to upset anyone. I'd taken the antibiotics and followed her to dinner like an obedient fool.
When the family raised their glasses, I'd explained that I couldn't drink alcohol after taking medication.
Corinne had poured me a glass of "juice."
"Just toast with this instead."
I'd downed it without a second thought. And she'd smiled—that triumphant, venomous smile.
"I mixed half a glass of liquor into that. See? You're perfectly fine. You just wanted to snub our family and show us who's boss. Too bad—I don't let anyone get away with that."
Three days in the ICU. Stomach pumped. Clinging to life by a thread.
The memory made my whole body tremble with rage.
Corinne stared at me, her voice dripping with false concern.
"Take your medicine, Queenie. Unless... you're deliberately trying to avoid eating with us?"
Calvin shot me an impatient look.
"It's a holiday. Can you stop making everything difficult? What's the big deal about having dinner?"
I closed my fingers around the medicine box.
"I'll take it before bed. Let's go eat first."
Corinne's expression shifted instantly to wounded innocence, her eyes wide and glistening.
"Do you hate me, Queenie? I went out of my way to buy that medicine for you, and you won't even take it. Did I do something wrong? Just tell me—I'll change, I promise."
Seeing Corinne's aggrieved expression, Calvin's heart ached for her.
"Queenie, Corinne bought this medicine out of the goodness of her heart. Don't be so ungrateful—just take it and come eat."
I popped a pill from the blister pack and washed it down with water. A flash of triumph flickered across Corinne's eyes.
"Queenie, now that you've taken your medicine, come join us for dinner."
I watched her slip out the door.
Then I grabbed Calvin before he could follow.
"Calvin, the flu's been going around everywhere lately. We traveled all day, and now I'm coming down with a fever. Maybe you should take some cephalosporin too—just to be safe."
He considered this, decided it made sense, and swallowed a pill with water.
The moment he left, I spat the pill into the trash, rinsed my mouth three times, and only then went to dinner.
At the table, Corinne raised her glass.