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Chapter 3

Morning light filtered through the blinds as I reached for my phone, a habit I couldn't break despite everything. My fingers froze mid-scroll when Madison's latest post appeared on my feed. There I was, tear-streaked and broken at the restaurant, forced to apologize for something I hadn't done. The video captured my humiliation in high definition—my trembling voice, my brothers' stern faces surrounding me like prison guards.

"Family healing takes courage," Madison had captioned it, tagging me in hashtags like #SisterForgiveness and #FamilyFirst. Beneath it, hundreds of comments praised her strength and compassion. No one saw the calculated cruelty behind her angelic smile.

I threw my phone across the room, where it landed with a dull thud against the carpet. The video had already garnered thousands of views. Strangers were now witnesses to my degradation, believing Madison's carefully crafted narrative that I was the jealous, unstable sister trying to harm the dying one.

My phone buzzed with an incoming call—Jacob. Probably to berate me for not responding to Madison's "olive branch" post. I let it ring until silence filled the room again.

---

"It's perfect sailing weather," Madison declared, her voice carrying across the deck of Caleb's yacht as we cut through the waters off the Hamptons. She wore a flowing white sundress that made her look ethereal against the azure sky, a vision of fragile beauty.

I kept to myself at the bow, the sea breeze offering momentary relief from the suffocating tension. This family outing had been Madison's idea—"to heal together as a family while I still can," she'd said with practiced vulnerability that had my brothers immediately arranging their schedules.

"Tea's ready," I announced, carrying the tray from the galley. No one acknowledged me as I carefully navigated the gently rocking deck.

Madison glided toward me, her movements graceful despite the yacht's motion. "Let me help you with that, sister," she offered loudly enough for everyone to hear her generosity.

Before I could respond, her hands were on the tray, her eyes meeting mine with cold calculation. Time slowed as I watched her fingers deliberately tip the teapot. Scalding liquid cascaded down my chest and stomach, soaking through my thin linen dress and searing my skin.

The pain was immediate and blinding. I screamed, dropping the tray as the burning sensation spread across my torso and down my back. Teacups shattered against the deck as I clawed at my dress, desperate to get the burning fabric away from my skin.

"Oh my God!" Madison gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in theatrical shock. "I'm so sorry! The boat lurched—I didn't mean—" She stumbled backward, somehow managing to catch her hand on a broken teacup in the process.

"Madison's bleeding!" Ethan shouted, rushing to her side as she displayed a tiny cut on her palm, a single drop of blood beading on her skin.

I doubled over in agony, my vision blurring with tears as blisters began forming on my reddened skin. "Please," I gasped, "I need help."

But my brothers were clustered around Madison, who was now seated and being tended to with gentle care. Caleb pressed a clean napkin to her microscopic wound while Jacob ran for the first aid kit.

"She'll be fine," Ryan dismissed, barely glancing my way as he hovered over Madison. "Madison, darling, are you alright? With your condition, even a small injury could be dangerous."

I stumbled to the bathroom alone, peeling off my dress with trembling hands to reveal angry red patches across my torso and back. The mirror reflected second-degree burns spreading like a map of my family's indifference across my skin.

---

"These are serious second-degree burns," Dr. Reed stated firmly, applying medicated cream to my back with gentle hands. "You should have come in immediately."

"There was a more pressing emergency on the boat," Jacob explained dismissively, standing in the corner of the examination room with his arms crossed.

Dr. Reed's eyebrows rose as she glanced at Madison, who sat primly in a chair, a tiny bandage adorning her palm. "More pressing than second-degree burns covering fifteen percent of your sister's body?"

"Madison has cancer," Caleb snapped. "Her immune system is compromised. Even a paper cut could lead to infection."

"I see," Dr. Reed replied, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp as she finished bandaging my back. "And yet, Ms. Sterling's medical records show no evidence of immunosuppression that would make a minor cut life-threatening."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Madison's eyes narrowed fractionally before she let out a delicate cough.

"My treatment is... experimental," she murmured, her voice faint. "The records wouldn't reflect..."

"Madison's condition demands priority," Ethan interrupted, moving protectively to her side. "We're taking her home now. She needs rest."

As they filed out, Madison trailing behind like a fragile ghost, she turned back to me. For just a moment, her mask slipped, and I saw it—satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as they flicked to my bandaged body.

Dr. Reed waited until they were gone before speaking. "Olivia," she said quietly, "what's really going on in your family?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. The truth sat heavy on my tongue, but who would believe me? Who ever had?

"Nothing," I whispered. "Nothing I can't handle."

But as I said it, I wondered how much more I could actually survive.

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