Chapter 3

A few weeks later, I was out of the hospital, my leg in a cast, relying on crutches.

The family decided a trip to the lake house was in order. "For Caleb to recover from the stress," my mother announced. I was expected to go.

The air at the lake was crisp, the water dark and still.

Olivia was there, of course. She and Caleb were inseparable.

One afternoon, I was sitting on the porch, sketching in a notebook. Olivia walked by.

Surprisingly, she stopped. "What are you drawing?" she asked, her voice neutral, almost curious.

Before I could answer, Caleb appeared. He saw us talking. A flicker of something ugly crossed his face, gone in an instant.

"Olivia, darling!" he called, his voice overly bright. "Come look at the boat! I think I can fix the motor."

He walked towards the dock, then, with a theatrical stumble, he "tripped," his arms flailing. He pitched forward, grabbing my arm as he went, pulling me off balance.

We both plunged into the cold lake water.

The shock of the cold, the sudden immersion, took my breath away. My cast dragged me down.

Caleb started thrashing, coughing, yelling. "Help! I can't swim! Ethan... he... help!"

He could swim perfectly well.

Olivia screamed from the shore. Without a second's hesitation, she kicked off her shoes and dived in.

She swam straight to Caleb, ignoring me as I struggled to stay afloat, my leg a dead weight.

She reached Caleb, who immediately clung to her, "gasping for breath."

"Caleb! Oh, Caleb, are you okay?" she cried, supporting him.

She didn't even look at me. I managed to grab onto a low-hanging branch and pull myself towards the edge, coughing up water.

Olivia helped Caleb to shore, then rounded on me, her face flushed with fury.

"Ethan! What is wrong with you? Did you try to drown him? How could you be so cruel to your own brother?"

Her words hit me harder than the cold water. She truly believed it.

Caleb, leaning heavily on her, coughed weakly. "It's... it's okay, Olivia. I'm sure he didn't mean it."

His magnanimity was sickening.

My parents rushed out, alerted by the commotion. They saw Caleb, wet and shivering, Olivia accusing me.

The story was set before I could say a word.

I don't remember much after that. The shock, the cold, the accusations.

I think I passed out.

I woke up on the sofa in the lake house living room, wrapped in a blanket, shivering.

My parents were there, their faces like stone.

"We cannot believe you, Ethan," my father said, his voice low and dangerous.

"After everything Caleb has been through," my mother sobbed. "How could you?"

"He pulled me in," I said, my voice hoarse. "He faked it."

"Lies!" David roared. "Olivia saw you. She saw you try to harm him."

"She saw what Caleb wanted her to see," I said, weary.

Susan shook her head. "You were always jealous of Caleb. We saw it. We just hoped you'd grow out of it."

"We know about you and Olivia," David said, his eyes narrowed. "We know you had some... delusion about her before. When she was unwell."

So, they were admitting it. Admitting they knew about "E."

"Caleb loves her. She loves Caleb. You need to accept that. Your interference is over."

Olivia walked in then. Her hair was damp, her eyes cold.

"He needs to learn his place," she said, her voice flat. "He's a danger to Caleb."

My mother nodded eagerly. "She's right, David. We can't have this."

"The old storeroom in the basement," Olivia suggested, looking at me without a shred of pity. "Perhaps some time alone in the dark will help him reflect."

The storeroom. Cold, damp, lightless. A childhood punishment I thought I'd outgrown.

My father grabbed my arm, his fingers digging in. "Come on."

I didn't resist. There was no point. They dragged me, crutches and all, to the basement.

The heavy door creaked shut, plunging me into darkness. The lock clicked.

Alone. Again.

The cold seeped into my bones. My leg throbbed.

Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time lost meaning in the suffocating dark.

My mind, perversely, drifted back to Olivia. Not the cold, accusing Olivia of now, but the Olivia from the hospital.

The Olivia who had laughed at my stupid jokes, her fingers tracing the patterns on the blanket I'd brought her.

The Olivia who had whispered, "Your voice, E., it's like... a safe place."

Her hand, small and warm in mine.

The contrast was a fresh wave of pain. How could she be both?

The woman who found solace in my presence, and the woman who just condemned me to this cold, dark hell.

The answer was simple. Caleb. And my parents. They had poisoned her against me, twisted everything.

And she, vulnerable and trusting the wrong people, had believed them.

A key scraped in the lock. The door opened a crack, letting in a sliver of light.

Olivia stood there, silhouetted.

"Have you learned your lesson, Ethan?" she asked, her voice devoid of emotion.

I looked at her, at the beautiful face that had become a mask of cruelty.

"Yes," I said, my voice raspy. "I've learned my lesson."

I learned that loving her was my mistake. A mistake I wouldn't make again.

She nodded, satisfied, and closed the door, leaving me in the dark once more.

But this time, the bitterness was a shield.