Chapter 3

Jason Price made his grand entrance into the Miller Holdings lobby a week later.

He held the American Horizon Architectural Prize.

The golden statuette gleamed under the lights.

It should have been Ethan's.

Jason's face was a carefully constructed mask of humility and sorrow.

"I accept this in Ethan's honor," he announced to the assembled employees and a few select media. "His vision will always inspire me."

Bullshit.

Ashley and Victoria flanked him, beaming with pride.

"Jason has worked so hard for this," Ashley declared, her arm around his shoulder. "He truly deserves it."

Victoria nodded, her eyes shining with adoration for Jason.

"We're so proud of you, Jay."

They didn't even glance at Ethan, who sat in his wheelchair in a quiet corner of the rehab facility's common room, watching the live feed on a small tablet.

Neglected. Invisible.

Later that day, Jason visited Ethan.

The feigned sympathy was gone.

He leaned down, his voice a low taunt.

"Too bad about your hands, Ethan. Guess you won't be needing these anymore."

He dangled a set of Ethan's favorite drafting pencils, then pocketed them.

Humiliation burned through Ethan. Anger tightened his chest.

Then, Jason did something unexpected.

As he turned to leave, he "tripped" near a short flight of three steps leading out of the common room.

He yelped, falling dramatically, clutching his ankle.

"My ankle! Ethan! You pushed me!"

Ethan stared, disbelieving. He hadn't moved. He *couldn't* have.

Ashley, who had been waiting for Jason by the door, rushed over.

Her face was a mask of fury.

She didn't ask. She didn't hesitate.

She slapped Ethan. Hard.

Across the face.

The sound echoed in the quiet room.

"How could you!" she shrieked. "He's your brother! After everything we've done for you!"

Rage, hot and sharp, pierced through Ethan's despair.

"My hands are crushed!" Ethan's voice was raw, strained. "My arm is useless! I'm in a damn wheelchair! How could I push him?"

He looked at her, his eyes blazing.

"And what have *you* done for me, Ashley? Besides destroy my life?"

Victoria, who had followed Ashley in, looked from Ethan to Jason, then back to Ashley.

A flicker of something – doubt? – crossed her face.

But it vanished as quickly as it came. She remained silent, her loyalty to Ashley unwavering.

Disappointment, a familiar ache, settled in Ethan's chest.

"You will apologize to Jason, Ethan," Ashley demanded, her voice cold, authoritative.

The injustice was a physical weight.

"No," Ethan said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his body. "I did nothing."

Jason, still on the floor, put on a show of magnanimity.

"It's okay, Ash. Maybe he didn't mean it. He's... he's been through a lot."

His eyes, however, held a glint of triumph as he looked at Ethan.

Disgust churned in Ethan's stomach.

He turned his wheelchair, a slow, painful movement, and began to wheel himself away.

Alienated. Despairing.

Victoria followed him a few moments later, a glass of water in her hand.

"Ethan, here. You need to drink something."

Her voice was soft, an attempt at care.

He looked at the glass, then at her.

He knocked it from her hand.

It shattered on the floor.

A small, violent rejection of her hypocrisy.

That night, they came to his room.

Ashley and Victoria.

No pretense of care now.

Their faces were hard in the dim light from the hallway.

"We need to teach you a lesson, Ethan," Ashley said, her voice low and menacing. "You can't go around hurting Jason. You need to learn respect."

Victoria stood behind her, a silent, complicit shadow.

Terror, cold and sharp, gripped Ethan.

Ashley grabbed his already damaged arm.

Pain, white-hot, shot through him.

He bit back a scream.

Victoria held his legs down.

They weren't just teaching him a lesson. This was punishment. Cruel, calculated.

He endured it, his body trembling, his mind a vortex of pain and rage.

He stared into Ashley's eyes, seeing only coldness, a terrifying devotion to her twisted narrative.

He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of his cries.

His silence was his only defiance.

Suddenly, a loud clatter from the hallway. A dropped tray.

A nurse's voice, startled.

Ashley and Victoria froze, then quickly pulled away.

The door creaked open slightly, a sliver of light.

"Everything alright in here?" the nurse called out.

Ashley smoothed her hair, her composure instantly restored.

"Fine, just checking on him."

Temporary reprieve. But the message was clear.