Chapter 4

The door to my new, private hospital room burst open.

Eleanor Harrison stood there, her face contorted in a mask of rage.

It was the first time she' d come to see me since Julian' s return, and her first action was to slap me. Hard.

My head snapped to the side, the fresh stitches pulling, sending a searing pain through my skull.

"You!" she shrieked, her voice venomous. "How dare you upset Julian! He had a relapse because of you!"

I tasted blood in my mouth.

My hope, that tiny, stupid ember that wished for a shred of maternal concern from her, died completely.

"Hello, Eleanor," I said, my voice laced with a sarcasm I didn't know I possessed. "Nice to see you too."

The dizziness was back, stronger this time.

"Don't you dare use that tone with me, you ungrateful brat!" she screamed.

"Julian is suffering, and it's all your fault! He told me how you provoked his dog, how you threatened him!"

She was completely brainwashed. Or maybe she just wanted to believe Julian, her precious biological son.

"After everything we've done for you, this is how you repay us? By tormenting my son?"

She grabbed a vase from the bedside table and hurled it against the wall. It shattered, scattering ceramic shards and water everywhere.

"If anything happens to Julian, I will make sure your real family, those lowlifes you came from, suffer too!"

My biological family. I barely remembered them. She was using them as a threat.

The cruelty was breathtaking.

She then barked at the two burly security guards who had followed her in. "Get him out of here! Take him to Julian's room! He's going to apologize!"

They grabbed my arms, hauling me out of bed despite my injuries.

The pain was excruciating, but I didn't make a sound.

They dragged me down the hallway, my hospital gown flapping, my bare feet cold against the polished floor.

They threw me onto the floor of Julian' s much larger, more luxurious room.

Eleanor stood over me, her eyes blazing. "Apologize to your brother! He almost died because of your malice!"

Julian was in bed, looking pale and weak, an oxygen mask loosely fitted over his face.

He watched me with wide, innocent eyes, but I saw the smirk he was trying to hide.

He subtly shifted, letting out a small, pained gasp, clutching his chest.

Eleanor' s fury intensified. "See what you' ve done! He' s in pain because of you! I will make you pay, Ethan! I swear it!"

Julian feebly gestured for Eleanor to come closer. He whispered something to her.

Then, he looked at me, a picture of saintly forgiveness.

"Ethan," he rasped, his voice barely audible. "It' s... it' s okay. I forgive you."

He tried to sit up, as if to help me, but then "accidentally" pressed his knee into my injured shoulder.

Pain shot through me, and I cried out, pushing him away instinctively. "Get off me!"

I wouldn't apologize. Not for this. Not to him.

Julian dramatically fell back against the pillows, letting out a loud cry. "He pushed me! Mother, he' s trying to hurt me again!"

Eleanor lost it.

She lunged at me, slapping me again and again, across the face, on my head where the stitches were.

"You monster! You animal!" she screamed, her blows raining down.

I curled up, trying to protect my head, but she was relentless.

Black spots exploded in my vision. The pain was overwhelming.

My last thought before I lost consciousness was of her distorted, hateful face, and Olivia' s, and Richard' s.

I wished I could escape them, escape this life, forever.

I woke up days later, according to the quiet nurse who checked on me.

My head felt like it had been split open. My body ached everywhere.

But a strange resolve had settled in me.

I had to get out. Out of this hospital, out of their lives.

The Program' s warning about systemic failure echoed in my mind. Maybe this was it.

But I wouldn't die here, not like this, not under their control.

I dressed slowly, my movements stiff and painful.

I had one last thing to do.

I took a cab to the animal shelter, Buddy curled up on the seat beside me, whimpering softly.

I walked into the director' s office, a kind-faced woman named Mrs. Gable.

I placed my wallet on her desk. It contained all the cash I had, a few thousand dollars.

"This is for Buddy," I said, my voice hoarse. "And for the shelter. Please, take care of him. Find him a good home. A home where he' ll be loved."

I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Buddy was the last good thing.

Mrs. Gable looked at me, her eyes full of concern. "Mr. Miller? Are you alright? What' s going on?"

I stroked Buddy' s head one last time. He licked my hand, his eyes sad.

"I'm leaving," I said, my voice calm now, resigned. "Permanently. Please, just promise me you'll look after him."

She promised.

I walked out, not looking back.

It felt like I was leaving a part of my soul behind.