Chapter 3The Ninety-Ninth Abandonment

After Caleb left, the wedding turned into chaos.

I didn't force a smile to see off the guests like I usually did.

I just watched coldly as Caleb’s stepmother—Bella’s mom—cried and accused Mr. Sterling.

"Are you trying to force Bella to her death? You know how much she loves Caleb!"

"If anything happens to Bella, I won't live either! Let’s see if your Sterling family reputation matters more than me and Bella!"

After that, she glared at me and spat viciously:

"You shameless bitch!"

Then she stormed off angrily.

As if I were the mistress interfering in Caleb and Bella’s relationship.

But clearly, she was the mistress who climbed the social ladder and drove Caleb’s biological mother to suicide.

Unfortunately, the System told me that secret too, so I couldn't tell Caleb.

Otherwise, I would have loved to see his face if he knew the sister he doted on was the daughter of the woman who killed his mother.

Mr. Sterling sighed and came over to shake my hand.

"You’ve suffered, Chloe. Bella’s illness will be cured one day. Just endure it a little longer."

I pulled my hand back numbly and nodded, feeling nothing.

Caleb had said the same thing to me countless times.

Every time we fought about Bella, he would tell me to endure it, not to argue with a sick person.

Before, I would get angry, sad, despairing.

But today, I just didn't care.

The System said severe depression is like this. It robs you of normal emotions, strips away your will to live, leaving only endless pain and a resolve to die.

I asked the System, puzzled:

"Bella’s depression is so different from mine. Caleb is a professional. Why can't he see she's faking it?"

The System was silent for a long time before saying:

"How do you know Caleb doesn't see it?"

My breath hitched.

If Caleb knew all along that Bella was faking...

Then he was just using her "depression" as an excuse to spoil her limitlessly, to force me to give in, allowing Bella to cross boundary after boundary without consequence.

Lies don't hurt. The truth is the sharpest knife.

A stinging pain, like thousands of needles, pricked my heart.

I walked through the noisy crowd in a daze and went home.

I signed the organ donation papers, swallowed a whole bottle of sleeping pills, and curled up under the covers to wait for death.

Dying means I can go home and see Mom.

People who really want to die do it quietly, alone. They don't broadcast it to the world like Bella.