Chapter 4The Baby I "Killed"

When I got back to our tiny apartment, Paige saw my red-rimmed eyes. She reached up and gently touched my face. “Did someone bully you again, Sadie?” she asked, her small voice full of concern. “I wish I could grow up faster, so I could protect you.”

Our mother had died of an illness not long after Paige was born. Our father… well, our father was never the nurturing type. Paige had always clung to me.

I forced a smile and smoothed back her hair. “What if we left this city?” I asked softly. “Just you and me. Would that be okay?”

She nodded immediately. “Anywhere you go, I’ll go.” Then she hesitated. “What about Dad? Is he coming with us?”

She was too young to understand the full scope of it. She knew something bad had happened, that we were poor now, but she didn’t know Dad was in prison.

I chose my words carefully. “Dad made a mistake, a big one. He’s being punished for it. He… he won’t be home for a very, very long time.”

She tilted her head. “What did he do? Was it really bad?”

Yes. It was really bad.

Twenty years ago, to force a sale on a valuable piece of land, he had set fire to the Caldwell family’s factory.

Rhys’s father had been asleep in the office that night. He never made it out.

So, of course, Rhys hated my father. He hated my entire family. His quest for revenge was the most normal thing in the world. He’d changed his name, hidden his past, and waited years to avenge his father. It was an act of filial piety.

My dad was a criminal. He deserved what he got. I would never defend him.

But I couldn’t not blame Rhys.

He could have chosen a hundred other ways to get his revenge. Why did he have to use my heart as his weapon?

And even now, with his vengeance complete, he wouldn’t let me go. He just kept pushing, kept tormenting me.

I was powerless against him. The only option was to run.

To save money, I booked tickets on a Greyhound bus to Madison. A slow, lumbering route away from my life.

But on the city bus to the station, Paige suddenly collapsed.

I rushed her to the nearest hospital in a blind panic, my world shrinking to the sound of sirens. And there, under the harsh fluorescent lights of the emergency room, my world fell apart completely.

Paige had leukemia.

The words echoed in the sterile room, shattering everything. I sat by her bed, the sobs ripping through me, unstoppable.

Paige, small and pale against the white sheets, squeezed my hand. “Don’t be sad, Sadie,” she whispered, her voice impossibly small. “I don’t feel bad. Really.” She looked around the room. “I don’t like it here. I don’t want shots. Can we just go home?”

I knew what she was doing. She knew I didn’t have any money. My brave, sweet, selfless little sister.

A fresh wave of guilt and self-loathing crashed over me. I was so useless. I couldn’t even afford to save her life.