Chapter2

"Ella, you're awake. I thought you were never going to open your eyes again."

Cormac's worried face appeared in my line of sight.

In the past, seeing that deeply affectionate look in his eyes would have filled me with joy, thanking God for giving me a man who loved me so much. But now, only a bitter taste of revulsion remained.

I turned my head away, refusing to look at his hypocritical expression, but he forcefully gripped my chin, compelling me to meet his gaze.

I could clearly perceive it—a newfound trace of panic flickering in his eyes.

"Ella, tell me, what happened?"

I stayed silent.

After a moment, I stared at him with dead, unfocused eyes.

"Cormac, I want to die. I want to know if Mom is waiting for me up there in heaven. Just let me go..."

Everyone was lying to me now. Since they all wanted me destroyed anyway, what was the point of staying alive?

His face darkened. A flash of frantic reluctance crossed his eyes before he masked it, looking at me with feigned tenderness.

"Just wait a little longer. Once I find the evidence to prove Dad's innocence, I can get him out of prison, and you won't have to be played by that crippled bastard anymore."

I laughed bitterly to myself. It was the same classic line all over again.

Had I not overheard their conversation before, I would have foolishly believed him tooth and nail. But wasn't all of this just a toxic script they had meticulously written together?

I just couldn't understand. Could that brother, whose eyes used to hold only me, really treat me this callously for Cassandra?

"Cormac... the day you were kicked out of the house, did you ever hate us?"

After a long while, his eyes crinkled with that same, familiar gentleness.

"No. Because I met the most important person in my life."

I knew exactly who he was talking about in an instant.

Back then, Dad had kicked Cormac out of the house because he noticed the way Cormac looked at me. Dad had slapped him hard across the face that day, snarling, "She is your sister. If you ever dare to harbor those kinds of thoughts again, I'll break your legs."

Not long after, he was thrown out.

After he left, I secretly asked around about him. I heard he was having a miserable time, living under a bridge and getting beaten up without even a dime to see a doctor. I didn't dare look for him myself. Dad had sworn that if I ever saw him again, he would ship Cormac out of the country and banish him forever.

So, I turned to my best friend, Cassandra.

"Please, go check on him for me. Give him this." I handed her my piggy bank and a folded note.

The note read: Keep living. I'll figure something out.

The handwriting was painfully crooked. I had scribbled it secretly under the covers, my hands shaking uncontrollably. Some strokes were pressed too heavily, while other spots were smudged—likely from my tears.

I didn't write a salutation. It wasn't that I forgot; I just didn't dare.

I was afraid that seeing the word "Brother" would make him cry. I was also terrified he would figure out it was me. Dad had explicitly warned me: if I sought him out, he’d be sent abroad, never to return.

So, I swallowed the title down.

I only left behind a single sentence: Keep living. I'll figure something out.

Just a few short words. It was enough to pull him through.

Cassandra smiled as she took the piggy bank. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he gets it."

She went. But she never told him who the things actually came from.

Eventually, he came back. He thought Cassandra was the one who had saved him. He gave her all his gratitude, all his fierce obsession. And my dad became the sole target of his revenge.

He blamed my father and me for all his suffering, blindly believing Cassandra was his savior.

He knew absolutely nothing.

Looking at his deeply infatuated expression, I lost any desire to tell him the truth. I just wanted to see what kind of face he would make if I actually died in the script they had written for me.

A double knock sounded at the door. A man in a gray jacket poked his head in, glanced at me, and then addressed Cormac.

"Boss, there's someone downstairs asking for you. They said it's urgent."

Cormac frowned. "Who is it?"

The man lowered his voice and muttered something. I couldn't catch what he said, but Cormac's brow instantly smoothed out.

"Wait for me for just a second," he told me. His voice was still soft, but his body was already moving toward the door.

"Cormac," I called out to him.

He stopped, without turning around.

"Who is here?"

He fell silent for a second. "Someone from the company."

And then he left.

I lay in the hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. After a few minutes, I propped myself up, climbed out of bed, and leaned heavily against the wall as I shuffled toward the corner of the hallway, one painfully slow step at a time.

He stood by the window in the stairwell. Standing opposite him was a woman in an off-white coat with her hair cascading over her shoulders. Her belly was already quite large.

Cassandra.

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. He didn't flinch away.

Her hands rested on his shoulders, tilting her head back to say something. He bowed his head to listen, his lips hovering dangerously close to her forehead. Their voices weren't loud, but the stairwell was echoing and empty enough that I could vaguely catch their words.

"When you aren't around, I stay awake all night."

"I'll make more time to be with you from now on."

"You promised me. You can't go back on your word."

"I won't."

He reached out to touch her pregnant belly. His movements were incredibly gentle, radiating a profound, ultimate tenderness from his brow.

"Back then, when you found me in the snow and handed me that piggy bank, I knew right then that you were my goddess."

"Even though you're married to Noah now, I still view you as my divine light."

"Every time I couldn't see you, I despicably treated Ella as your substitute. I did things that tainted your image."

"But I swear, I am willing to sacrifice everything for you in this lifetime... Even my own life."