Chapter 3

I'd been sick my whole life. Rare blood type on top of everything else — every illness felt like a coin flip between life and death.

Once, during a surgery, I lost so much blood that the hospital's supply ran out.

Ethan searched like a man possessed and finally found an orphan who shared my blood type — Lily.

Her blood saved my life.

And just like that, she went from a penniless orphan to the adopted daughter of the Whitmore family, one of the wealthiest families in the country.

But after that, Ethan changed.

He stopped checking in on me. Stopped looking after me the way he used to.

When Lily and I were both hurt at the same time, he wouldn't even glance at me. He'd leave me where I fell and carry Lily — who was always less injured — straight to the hospital.

I went crazy with jealousy. I resented her. I made her life difficult every chance I got.

Between a sweet, gentle sister and a difficult, spiteful one, the choice was obvious. It didn't take a genius to figure out which one Ethan would choose.

But even through all my tantrums and acting out, I secretly believed that deep down, Ethan loved me most.

The only reason he treated Lily so well was because she'd saved my life.

I was wrong. Completely, catastrophically wrong.

In my past life, after my kidney disease was diagnosed, Lily died on the operating table during the transplant surgery.

I survived, against all odds.

But from that day forward, Ethan looked at me with nothing but hatred.

He said the cruelest things imaginable to me — as if we weren't siblings at all, but bitter enemies with blood between us.

This time, I don't want things to end up that way.

This time, I'd rather be the one who dies.

Winter up north was brutal. The wind carried snow like razor blades, slicing across my face.

The dull ache in my kidneys tangled with the sharp burn along my right arm until even breathing normally felt like a luxury I couldn't afford.

I hunched over, pulled my coat tight, and walked down the street.

I'd been greedy just now.

I came back to fulfill Ethan's wish — a life where he only had one sister, Lily.

I should leave. Now.

That was what I was thinking when a car horn sounded beside me.

The window rolled down, revealing Ethan's cold expression:

"Get in."

I started to refuse. But his bodyguard grabbed me before I could say a word and pushed me into the car.

The heat inside was turned up high, but I still felt cold.

To keep from looking out of the ordinary, I curled up against the window and stared silently at the streets rushing past outside.

"You didn't get it bandaged. What are you up to now?"

Ethan's voice was as cold as ice.

"Playing the martyr didn't work, so now you're pulling back to move forward?"

I was quiet for a moment. Then I turned and looked at him calmly:

"Ethan, I mean it. From now on, you don't have to be put in the middle because of me. I'm going to move out. I'll stay far away from both of you."

He looked at me like I'd just said something laughable. The corner of his mouth curved into a thin, mocking smile:

"Move out? Grace, everything you have came from this family. Without the Whitmores, without me, you're nothing. How long do you think you'd last?"

Not very long at all.

I thought that, and looked down:

"How long I last is my business."

"I know I've been out of line. I always thought that if I made enough noise, fought hard enough, you'd pay more attention to me. But I get it now. Some things aren't mine to have. Lily saved my life — you loving her is right. And I… I shouldn't have been in the way."

Ethan's sharp gaze swept over me. He seemed to be searching my face for a crack — for the manipulation, the calculation he expected to find there.

But what he found was a pile of cold, dead ash. Whatever had burned there before — the jealousy, the desperation, the aching need to hold onto him — it all seemed to have truly gone out.

That unfamiliar stillness made him more unsettled than her outbursts ever had.

"You think saying all that will make me go soft? You think I'll suddenly believe you've grown up? Grace, I've seen every trick you have!"

"I'm not playing tricks, Ethan."

My voice was quiet, carrying a faint, bone-deep exhaustion:

"I'm just… tired. I don't want to fight anymore. I just don't want to…"

I don't want to go to Mom and Dad carrying your hatred.