Chapter 2

The next morning, I was woken by a furious argument.

Even through the soundproof walls of the master bedroom, Briar's sharp voice pierced through the door, stinging my eardrums.

"Ethan! What do you mean by this? Yesterday at the engagement party, even though you made her kneel, look what the media is writing? They're saying I, Briar Stone, am cruel and abusive, tormenting my disabled sister-in-law!"

"Briar, don't be angry, the media just loves to sensationalize..." Ethan's voice was tired and placating.

"I don't care! Ethan, I'm telling you right now: this house isn't big enough for both of us! It's either her or me!"

Briar's voice suddenly rose, followed by the sound of something being violently smashed.

"If you want to marry me, you have to get rid of that blind girl! Do you know, every time I see her vacant eyes, I feel sick, disgusted! My friends are all laughing behind my back, saying that if I marry into the Hayes family, I'll also be signing up for a lifelong caretaker position!"

"Briar, Elara is my sister..."

"So what if she's your sister? She's blind! She's a useless burden who might even make a mess when she goes to the bathroom! Are you seriously going to support her for life? Are you going to make me live with a disabled person forever?"

"If you don't get rid of her today, then tomorrow, I'll tell my father to withdraw all investments from Hayes Industries! Then, with the company's funding cut off, you can look forward to bankruptcy and going back to the slums!"

The air fell into a deathly silence.

I huddled in the cold covers, my hands clamped over my ears, trembling uncontrollably.

So, my existence had become so unbearable for him?

After an unknown amount of time, heavy footsteps sounded outside the door.

With a click, my bedroom door opened.

Ethan walked in, bringing with him a heavy scent of cigarette smoke. He never used to smoke, saying it bothered me.

He sat on the edge of my bed, the mattress sinking slightly.

I kept my eyes closed, pretending to sleep, but I felt his gaze, like a cold snake, crawling across my face.

"Elara, are you awake?"

I slowly opened my lifeless eyes, forcing a smile that was uglier than a cry. "Good morning, Ethan."

Ethan was silent for a long time, so long that the muscles in my face started to ache.

"Elara, the company has encountered some serious difficulties recently, and we need the Stone family's help." His voice was dry, with a hint of undetectable guilt.

"I'm too busy, and I really don't have the energy to take care of you. There's a new specialized care facility on the outskirts of the city. The environment there is good, and there are many people like you. You can make friends."

"I'll help you pack a few things. This afternoon... you can move there for a while. Once I'm done with this busy period, I'll come pick you up, okay?"

My hands, hidden beneath the covers, clenched tightly, my nails digging deep into my flesh, yet I felt no pain.

A specialized care facility.

That was just a nicer way of putting it.

I knew that place. It was an institution specifically for abandoned severely disabled individuals. I'd heard the caretakers there were abusive, and they didn't even bother to turn on the heat in winter.

He wasn't sending me for care; he was abandoning me completely.

"Okay."

I heard my voice, frighteningly calm.

"As long as you're well, Ethan, I'll go anywhere."

Ethan seemed to sigh in relief. He reached out as if to pat my head, but his hand froze in mid-air, finally settling for a stiff pat on my shoulder.

"Elara is the most understanding. Don't worry, I'll pay your fees on time."

He stood up and fled the room as if escaping.

I sat in the darkness, tears finally silently overflowing.

Ethan, you forgot.

Ten years ago, when you lay in that hospital bed, despairing and attempting self-harm because of the possibility of blindness, it was I who held your hand and said, "Ethan, don't be afraid. I'll give you my eyes."

Then, you cried and said that if you ever scorned me, may lightning strike you down, and may you never find peace.

Turns out, vows really do have an expiration date.

When the stakes of profit are high enough, family bonds become thinner than paper.