Chapter 3Condemned by My Sister

When I woke again, I was in the hospital.

Alina stood beside the bed, her expression grim.

Next to her was Dr. Craig, his head lowered, and Brett, whose eyes were filled with amusement.

The moment I opened my eyes, Alina stepped forward. She ripped the IV from my hand and demanded in a low voice, "So this was your plan? You wanted me to think you had leukemia? Were you trying to make me feel guilty? Or were you hoping to drive Brett out of the family one step at a time?

"Zeke Beasley!" Her shout made my scalp prickle. "You're despicable!"

I opened my mouth. I wanted to explain and tell her I really was sick.

But Dr. Craig, who had diagnosed me with leukemia in the first place, cut me off, "I'm sorry, Mr. Beasley. I've already refunded your money to your account. As a doctor, I have professional ethics. I can't help you deceive people."

My eyes widened. A buzzing filled my ears.

"What did you say?"

As realization struck, I instinctively looked at Brett. I saw the smugness in his eyes, the delight at my misery, and the disgust.

"It was you again..." My voice came out hoarse, thick with pain. My eyes burned red.

Alina frowned and immediately stepped in front of Brett, shielding him. Her expression turned dark. "You never learn! You wanted to leave home, didn't you? Fine. I'll give you what you want. Get out of the Beasley family. Now!"

With that, she took Brett by the hand and walked away.

As he turned, he smiled at me and silently mouthed three words: "You lost again."

The room fell silent.

Dr. Craig lowered his eyes, conflict written all over his face. "I'm sorry… My child needs money to study abroad. Zeke, I'm truly sorry..."

I gave a faint smile, as if it didn't matter.

People looked out for themselves. That was just how the world worked.

Yet, tears still slipped from the corners of my eyes, one after another, falling onto the hospital bed.

After being thrown out of the family home, I rented a run-down apartment.

That night, I'd taken my medication and was about to go to sleep when I heard someone tampering with the lock. I immediately sat up, grabbed a bat from beside me, and cautiously approached the door.

The person outside was still cursing.

"Damn it. What kind of dump does this idiot live in? I can't even get the door open!"

The instant I heard his voice, my entire body went rigid. It was him.

Derrick, the man who had run the cell block in prison...

But he'd been sentenced to life. How could he possibly be out?

Before I could make sense of it, the man outside kicked the lock open. The force knocked me backward, and I crashed hard onto the floor.

Derrick sneered, crouched down, snatched the bat from my hand, and tapped it against the floor again and again. Each thud drained more color from my face.

I looked at him and suddenly laughed. "Brett sent you, didn't he? Starting in prison, Brett was the one who ordered you to torment me."

He froze for a moment, his eyes flickering. "Who the hell is Brett? Never heard of him. Maybe I just don't like you.

I struggled unsteadily to my feet. I couldn’t afford my medication anymore. The pain had started again.

"In prison, you said you hated me because my sentence was shorter than yours.

"But I just got out, and then you got out right after me. Do you really think I’m still going to believe something that ridiculous?"

His expression turned dark and menacing.

I let out a cold laugh. "Looks like Brett paid you pretty well if you were willing to spend five years in prison with me."

Bang!

"Shut the hell up, dirtbag!"

My back slammed into the coffee table. Shattered pieces of glass instantly buried themselves in my skin.

Pain.

Agonizing, bone-deep pain.

Suddenly, the front door opened.

A confused voice came from the doorway. "What are you doing?"