Chapter 2

In truth, today was Arthur's and my wedding anniversary.

I harbored a desperate, pathetic hope that tonight, I could coax even a single drop of genuine love from him.

With that sliver of affection, I could save my brother Noah at tomorrow's sacrifice—and keep myself alive.

I even put on the dress Arthur had given me the night he proposed.

As the clock struck eleven, the electronic chime of the front door's fingerprint lock finally echoed through the hall.

A fleeting hopeful smile bloomed on my face. But the moment the door swung open, my expression froze entirely.

Arthur walked in with his arm securely wrapped around Chloe. She was leaning into his chest without reservation, their bodies pressed together in an intimacy so absolute it left no room for anyone else.

The second Arthur saw me, his brows knitted together in deep annoyance.

He didn't spare a single glance at the dinner on the table or the effort I had put into my appearance. He just asked coldly, "What are you doing standing there in the dark? Are you trying to scare someone?"

"Today is... our wedding anniversary." I pointed at the cake on the table. "Could you just—"

"Elena, I'm so sorry." Chloe peeked out from Arthur's embrace, her face a perfect picture of guilt. "Arthur stayed late to keep me company. Please don't be mad at him. It's all my fault."

"That's enough, Chloe. You don't need to apologize to her." Arthur protectively tucked her behind him. "Elena, when is this going to end? We're going to the pawnshop tomorrow to save Noah, and you still have the mind to play these pathetic little games? Is this your way of trying to guilt-trip me about how miserable you are?"

"I'm not..."

Faced with his absolute, icy defensiveness, my hand lifted on instinct, pressing hard through my clothes against my upper back—right over my sprawling, hideous burn scars.

"Arthur, I'm just terrified that I won't be coming back tomorrow. I just want the Arthur from ten years ago. The one who swore he would protect me for the rest of my life... Even if it's just for tonight. Please?"

My words—or perhaps the subconscious way I was pressing against my scars—made Arthur's pupils shrink violently.

A fleeting flash of guilt-induced panic crossed his features. But in the very next second, it was swallowed by an even deeper, profound disgust.

He closed the distance in wide strides, violently sweeping his arm across the table and sending the cake I had spent hours baking crashing to the floor.

"How much longer are you going to hold this over my head?"

"Yes, you dragged me out of that car, I've never denied that! It's the reason I married you! I've spent ten whole years of marriage repaying that debt! But could you drop the constant martyr act? You saved my life, sure, but Chloe is the one who gave me the will to keep living. You can't use guilt to force me to love you!"

I stood entirely frozen, as if struck by lightning, feeling my soul being slowly drained away.

So that was how he had been gaslighting himself for the past ten years.

To save him, I lay in the ICU for half a month. I endured countless agonizing skin-debridement surgeries and nearly died.

Yet, in his eyes, it was merely an outstanding debt that he had long since paid off. Meanwhile, Chloe had somehow become his irreplaceable spiritual salvation.

"Elena, how could you pressure Arthur like this?" Chloe suddenly stepped forward, reaching out for my hand. "Please don't be like this. Stop fighting, you're scaring me..."

"Don't touch me!" I slapped her hand away on pure reflex.

I hadn't used any force at all, yet Chloe flew backward, crashing against the sharp edge of the table.

Chloe let out a piercing scream, clutching her forehead as blood began pouring through her fingers.

"Chloe!" Arthur roared, his eyes wide with sheer panic as he shoved me backward with devastating force.

I crashed to the floor, right into the shattered porcelain. A jagged shard sliced deeply into my palm, and blood immediately pooled around my hand, but I couldn't feel the pain.

Because in the very next second, the front door was pushed open again. My parents rushed in, catching the exact aftermath of the scene.

My mother shrieked and charged at me. She raised her hand and slapped me across the face with explosive force. She hit me with every ounce of her strength. My ears instantly began ringing, and the thick, metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth.

The blow threw my head back.

Through my blurring vision, I watched my father frantically helping Arthur hoist a sobbing Chloe off the floor, while my mother pointed a trembling finger directly at my nose, screaming viciously.

"Cooking all this food, dressing up like a tramp, do you honestly think we can't see right through your disgusting little tricks?"

My mother's eyes were feral with hatred. "You have no intention of saving Noah! You're trying to play the victim to get out of tomorrow's sacrifice, and now you're trying to take Chloe down with you! How could our family ever spawn something as vicious and selfish as you?"

"I'm not..." An immense wave of devastation clamped down on my throat. Ignoring the blood dripping from my palm, I shook my head frantically, tears welling in my eyes. "Mom, Dad, I'm not trying to run away... I really am going to trade myself for Noah tomorrow..."

I tilted my head up, looking at Arthur in utter despair, begging for that final shred of love that could save my life: "Arthur, please, just believe me, okay? I didn't push her hard at all..."

"Shut up!" Arthur snapped. "I saw you shove Chloe, and you're still trying to lie your way out of it! Let me make this clear, Elena. If this leaves a scar on Chloe's face, I will never, ever forgive you!"

Without another word, he bent down and scooped Chloe into his arms. Cradling her against his chest as if she were a treasure, he stormed out the door.

My parents were beside themselves with worry, turning and scrambling out right after them.

"Don't be scared, Chloe. Mommy's right here. We'll be at the hospital soon..." My mother's voice drifted back into the hallway.

It was a maternal tenderness I had never, ever been allowed to have.

The front door slammed shut behind them without a hint of hesitation.

In the massive, freezing villa, I was the only one left.

I sat completely alone in the wreckage on the floor, staring at my blood smearing together with the ruined cake.

The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly, inching closer and closer to the midnight deadline—and I had failed to beg for even a single ounce of love.