Chapter 3

In the eerie silence of the hospital room, the dial tone from the hung-up call buzzed in my ears, making my head throb.

The doctor let out a heavy sigh and quietly walked out.

Amidst the constant beeping of the heart monitor, I forced myself to sit up.

For the little time I had left, I didn't want to spend it rotting in a hospital bed.

That phone call had been so final. The doctor had hesitated several times before saying, "If there's still hope, I'll contact you immediately."

This was the first warmth I had felt since moving to the city.

It didn't come from my mother, but from a total stranger.

I let out a bitter laugh, wrapped myself in a thick coat, and slipped out of the hospital.

It wasn't actually that cold outside. By the time I reached the art gallery, I was drenched in sweat.

The doorknob was covered in dust. Strangely, the door was unlocked. I pushed it open with a gentle nudge.

This gallery was my only solace.

When I got my acceptance letter from Harvard, it generated a lot of positive PR for Eleanor's company. She had smiled and asked me what I wanted as a reward.

I wanted to go to the amusement park with her—a place I had only ever seen in books.

I wanted to go camping with her, just the two of us.

But Natasha had stared at me with such intensity that the words died in my throat.

I could only clutch the hem of my shirt and whisper, "I don't know."

The moment the words left my mouth, Natasha laughed.

"We're family now, Audrey. There's no need to be so calculating, acting like you're afraid of being shortchanged."

"I get that you just came from a trailer park and still have that petty mindset, but let me tell you, love can't be bought with money..."

Her words made Eleanor’s face darken instantly. "The poverty mindset is practically oozing out of her. How did someone like this even get a Harvard offer?"

I opened my mouth to explain, but Eleanor wouldn't hear a word of it. "You just want money, don't you?"

"I'll give you a commercial storefront. Do whatever you want with it, but stop trying to guilt-trip me."

That night, I stayed up late, crouching outside Eleanor's bedroom door, hoping she would give me a chance to explain.

I wasn't trying to guilt-trip her. I wasn't greedy.

I was just... a little jealous.

But I promised myself I wouldn't be anymore. I would get along with Natasha. I would treat her like a real sister.

We could go to the amusement park together.

But I never got the chance to say those words.

Natasha had handed me a box earlier that day, claiming it was a gift from Eleanor and telling me to open it in my room.

I had excitedly pulled out a beautiful, glowing crystal specimen. The faint, shifting light was so mesmerizing that it made my nose bleed.

I quickly wiped the blood off the crystal and put it back.

This was the first gift Eleanor had ever given me. I couldn't ruin it.

But the next second, my vision went black, and I collapsed.

When I woke up, the doctors told me I had advanced leukemia. I didn't have much time left.

At the time, Natasha had visited me, clinging to Eleanor's arm.

"You were perfectly healthy back in the country. Now that Mom is pampering you with luxury, you suddenly get cancer?"

"Audrey, stop throwing tantrums."

"If my existence pains you so much that you have to stage this dramatic illness to drive me away, I can just leave! I'll give Mom back to you!"

She wept bitterly, her entire body shaking with victimhood, looking as if she might faint from sheer grief.

I stared at her coldly.

Such a pathetic, obvious lie. Eleanor should have seen right through it.

Yet, Eleanor immediately grabbed Natasha to comfort her.

She looked at me, her eyes filled with cold disappointment. "Audrey, you utterly disgust me."

"Until you learn to stop bullying Natasha, you are only allowed to call me three times a year."

Now, I only had two calls left.

I sighed as I walked deeper into the gallery.

This place used to be filled with my paintings, but now, every single one of them had been defaced with red spray paint.

Several ruined canvases were lined up to spell out a message: Do you like the gift Natasha gave you?

Even if I told Eleanor, she wouldn't believe me.

Holding my breath, I dialed Eleanor's number for the second time.

"Mom, can you spend my birthday with me tomorrow?"