Chapter 3

Looking at his blank face, I laughed out loud.

Julian's expression turned utterly cold.

"Vivian has endured enough of your tantrums over the years just because you're sick."

"Every single mess you made, didn't she and I clean it up for you? Lorraine, when is this endless drama going to stop?!"

He sighed heavily, his voice dropping into forced patience.

"Let's just get through Vivian's wedding first, alright? Stop acting out."

I wasn't surprised.

He had recycled this exact excuse for seven years.

The first time: Vivian just moved in, she needs time to adjust.

The second time: Vivian hasn't been feeling well emotionally, let's put the ceremony on hold.

The third time: Vivian's health is declining, we need to pause our plans.

Eventually, I stopped asking.

Every single time, Vivian would conveniently fall ill right on schedule.

A sudden fever, a twisted ankle, night terrors, insomnia.

Years ago, I would have smashed vases and screamed until my throat bled.

Today, I just sat there in silence.

"Vivian is kindhearted," Julian added. "She suggested we take you out for fresh air so you don't suffocate sitting at home."

Just then, the door swung open and Vivian stepped in.

She linked her arm through Julian's with practiced intimacy.

"Julian! I'm all ready. Let's head out!"

I followed silently behind them down the driveway.

By the gate, a few neighborhood women were chatting over iced lattes.

The moment they saw Vivian, their faces broke into warm smiles:

"Good morning, Mrs. Vance! Out for a morning stroll?"

"That proposal video yesterday was so romantic! My daughter watched it three times, crying that she needs to find a man like Mr. Vance!"

Then, their eyes landed on me trailing behind.

Their tones instantly flipped:

"Oh... is that Julian's crazy sister? She definitely looks off..."

"Vivian is an angel on earth. If it were me, I'd have shipped her off to a lockdown facility long ago. Having someone like that around the house is terrifying."

"I heard she attacked people before..."

I kept my head down.

I remembered.

For a long time, Vivian had used my supposed "mental illness" as cheap gossip to share with neighbors, security guards, and delivery drivers.

Soon enough, everyone avoided me like the plague.

I thought I had grown numb to it.

Until the young boy who used to play catch with me threw a heavy stone straight at my chest, screaming viciously:

"Freak! If you bully Aunt Vivian again, I'll send you straight to hell!"

Snapping out of the memory, I could hear Vivian chattering away in the front seat.

She talked about how magnificent the fireworks were, how many thousands of people cheered for them.

Julian nodded, smiling softly.

Every now and then, he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

A practiced gesture, repeated ten thousand times.

Before long, the car pulled up outside a luxury bridal boutique.

The glass doors swung open, and the manager's eyes lit up the second she spotted Vivian:

"Miss Blake! You're finally here! That main gown you tried on last week left our entire team breathless!"

"Mr. Vance must be done with his hectic schedule? You two used to come in for fittings every day... if it weren't for that family issue... oh, you've both been through so much."

I was pushed aside into a quiet corner by the staff.

The familiar suffocation tightened around my throat, and cold sweat beaded on my brow.

Suddenly—

Smack!

A sharp slap cracked across my face.

A middle-aged woman stood in front of me, her eyes burning with pure hatred.

"It's you! The little monster who drove Mrs. Vance to jump off that building! You murdered your own teacher, and you dare show your face in public?!"