Chapter Three

Vivienne's POV

Father, Nathaniel, and Grayson rushed into the bathroom. The sight of Delilah in a pool of blood sent them into panic.

"Quick! To the hospital!" Father scooped up Delilah and ran.

The nearest medical facility was a small clinic near the farm—a fifteen-minute drive. After examining her, the doctor delivered his verdict: superficial wounds, minor injuries, bandage and discharge.

Delilah "weakly" opened her eyes. Seeing her family gathered around the bed, tears streamed down. "It's all my fault... I'm so sorry... Please don't blame her..."

Mother gripped her hand tightly. "Sweet girl, you scared me to death! And you're still thinking of others!"

"This is Vivienne's fault!" Nathaniel punched the wall. "She leaked to the media to push Delilah over the edge! How can I have such a vicious sister!"

Father's face was ashen. "When she comes back, I'll teach her a lesson she'll never forget!"

My spirit floated in the corner of the hospital room, wanting to scream—I didn't do anything! But I couldn't speak. And I knew that even if I could, no one would believe me.

Just like every time for the past fifteen years.

Grayson arrived after handling the press, rushing in to see Delilah with bandaged wrists, pain and guilt flooding his eyes.

"This is my fault." He held Delilah's hand, voice trembling. "I should have dealt with the news sooner. Shouldn't have let you see those vicious comments."

Delilah weakly shook her head. "It's not your fault... I'm just too fragile..."

Grayson turned, fury burning in his eyes. "Where is Vivienne hiding? How dare she!" Looking at Delilah, his tone softened with determination. "I promise, I won't let this happen again."

My spirit froze. He'd never spoken to me in that tone.

Grayson stepped out of the room, dialing my number. No answer. He left a voicemail, voice seething with rage:

"Vivienne, what the hell are you doing?! Leaking to the media, nearly getting Delilah killed—the reputation of two families, your sister's safety—do you care about any of it? I always thought you were kind. Never imagined jealousy would drive you to this!"

He took a deep breath, voice turning colder: "I was planning to take you to the Maldives after this, as a pre-wedding trip. Canceled now, because you don't deserve it. And if anything happens to Delilah because of you, our engagement ends."

I listened to the accusations, too exhausted to feel anything.

I should have known.

Last Christmas I had a 102-degree fever. He said he'd come take care of me, but when Delilah called saying she was lost at the mall, he immediately drove to get her, leaving me burning with fever for two days.

Three months ago on my birthday, he promised to have dinner with me but sent a message after I'd waited an hour at the restaurant: "Delilah's upset. I need to be with her. Happy birthday. I'll make it up to you." That "later" never came.

I argued about these things countless times, only to hear "You're overthinking it. Delilah's your sister—she's family." His indifference made me feel like a possessive lunatic.

But I loved him deeply. Thought he could be mine alone.

I was wrong. Dead wrong.

They returned to the farmhouse, Grayson accompanying Delilah inside to rest. Father, Mother, and Nathaniel spoke in low voices in the hallway.

I floated nearby, hearing Mother sigh: "Such a shame Grayson isn't marrying Delilah. Such a good man, so attentive to her—he really should be with our Delilah."

My spirit went rigid.

Father nodded. "You can tell Delilah likes him too. If only they'd met first..."

Mother looked thoughtful. "It's not completely unchangeable. Even if Grayson marries Vivienne, he can still dote on Delilah. Vivienne's been unlikable since childhood—Grayson will regret it sooner or later."

Nathaniel interrupted. "Right now, the priority is finding Vivienne and teaching her a lesson. She has to pay for what happened today."

He pulled out his phone, dialing my number.

In the quiet night, a ringtone suddenly echoed from the distance—from the direction of the stable.

All three froze.

Nathaniel hung up. The ringing stopped. He dialed again. The ringtone came from the stable once more, unnaturally clear in the darkness.

"She's... in the stable?" Mother frowned.

The three followed the sound toward the stable. The closer they got, the heavier the reek of blood hung in the air.

Nathaniel pushed open the stable door, his phone's flashlight beam cutting inside—

A female corpse curled by the hay pile.

Covered in wounds, dried blood staining her thin dress a dark black. Beside her, a phone with a shattered screen glowed faintly, displaying "Nathaniel calling."

Nathaniel's face went white.

"Vivienne?" His voice emerged from deep in his throat, filled with disbelief and terror.