Chapter 4

I couldn't understand all their words. They were just a jumble of angry sounds. But I felt their eyes. Staring. Judging. Like I was a broken exhibit in a museum.

Harlow floated over. She put a hand on my shoulder. Her touch felt icy.

"Please, everyone," she said, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Let's not dwell on the past. It's so sad to see Joleen like this."

She glanced at a cameraman, a subtle wink.

I flinched. Her touch felt wrong. I pushed her hand away. I stood up. I just wanted to hide. To disappear.

"Please," I whispered. My voice was hoarse. "Stop. Go away."

Jax was there in an instant. His hand clamped around my arm. "Don't you dare," he growled. "Don't you dare ruin this."

"You love money, right?" he sneered. "Well, this show will bring in plenty of donations. Enough for you to live comfortably. For the rest of your pathetic life."

He squeezed my arm. "Or are you trying to play coy again? Trying to make me feel guilty? Cry and scream like you used to? Like seven years ago?"

A few muffled laughs from the crew. The sound felt like sandpaper on my skin.

My head pulsed. The noise, the lights, the angry faces. It was all swirling around me. My brain felt like it was going to explode.

"Get out!" I screamed. My voice was raw. Louder than I thought it could be. "All of you! Get out of my house!"

My vision went black. The floor rushed up to meet me.

I woke up to the smell of antiseptic. A hospital bed beneath me. A needle in my hand. Clear liquid dripping into my veins.

A doctor stood by the bed. His brow was furrowed. He looked worried.

"Joleen Spencer?" he asked softly.

I nodded. My throat felt dry.

"We couldn't reach your emergency contact," he said. "Your brother, Colton. Do you know where he is?"

Colton. My brother. The Post-it notes mentioned him. But where was he?

"I don't know," I whispered.

The doctor sighed. He looked at me with sad eyes.

"You collapsed from severe malnutrition and extreme emotional stress," he explained gently. "You need to stay here for observation. We've contacted the police to help find your brother."

Just then, the door creaked open. Footsteps.

Jax and Harlow walked in. They carried a fruit basket. And a bouquet of flowers. Smiling. Concerned.

Behind them, a cameraman. His lens pointed directly at me.

"Joleen, darling, you're awake!" Harlow exclaimed, rushing to my bedside. Her voice was too bright. "How are you feeling, sweetie? The doctor said you'll be fine, just need some rest and good food."

She placed the fruit basket on the nightstand. It felt heavy. Too heavy.

Jax stood by the door. Just watching. His eyes were unreadable.

I looked at them. Then at the camera. I pulled the blanket higher, trying to hide.

The doctor turned to Jax and Harlow. His eyebrows were practically touching his hairline.

"Who are you people?" he demanded. His voice was firm. "This patient needs rest. You need to leave. Now."

Harlow chuckled. A light, airy sound. "Oh, we're Joleen's friends. And this is our film crew. We're just here to check on her. And to inform the public about her situation, so people can help."

The doctor opened his mouth to argue. But Jax cut him off.

"We won't be long," Jax said. His voice was low, laced with an unspoken threat. "Just a few shots. Then we'll be gone."

The doctor looked at Jax. Then at the cameras. He sighed again. He turned and walked out, his shoulders slumped.

Harlow sat on the edge of my bed. She took my hand. Her touch was still cold.

"Don't worry, Joleen," she cooed. "We'll take care of you. It's just so sad you're all alone. No one to look after you."

She squeezed my hand. "Once the show airs, your brother will see. He'll rush back. He'll want to protect you. Just like Jax is protecting you now."

I tried to pull my hand away. Her fingers were like ice around mine.

Jax saw my movement. He let out a cold laugh.

"What now, Joleen?" he sneered. "Too good to even be touched? Look at yourself. What dignity do you have left?"

He stepped closer to the bed. "You will cooperate. You will finish this show. Or I promise you, I have a hundred ways to make you disappear."

My body started to tremble. I didn't know what to do. I just wanted them to leave.

Suddenly, the door to the hospital room burst open. It slammed against the wall with a crash.

A man stood there. Tall and broad-shouldered. His eyes swept across the room. They landed on me.

His voice was like a storm. Cold. Furious. "Who the hell touched my sister?"