Chapter 3

The rain started just as Liam's call ended, a sudden, violent downpour that turned the sky to bruised purple. I didn't have an umbrella. I stood under the cafe's awning for a moment, watching the street turn into a river, before I decided I didn't care. I hobbled out into the storm, my cast quickly becoming soaked and heavy. The bus was slow, and by the time I got back to the house, I was drenched and shivering, my leg throbbing with a dull, persistent ache.

I unlocked the front door and stepped inside, dripping water all over the hardwood floor. And then I saw them.

Liam was in the kitchen, carefully spooning soup into a bowl. Scarlett was sitting at the table, wrapped in one of my favorite blankets, looking pale and fragile. The house was warm and smelled of chicken noodle soup, the kind Liam only made when I was sick. He was taking care of her in our home, using my things to comfort her, after leaving me stranded in a storm.

The scene was so grotesquely domestic it stole the air from my lungs.

Liam looked up, his eyes widening in surprise. "Olivia! You're soaked. I tried to call you back..."

"Don't," I said, my voice coming out colder than I intended. I looked at Scarlett, who was watching me with a triumphant glint in her eyes. She looked perfectly fine. "I see you were busy."

I didn't wait for his excuses. I turned and limped toward the bedroom, leaving a trail of water behind me. I could feel his eyes on my back, but he didn't follow. He stayed with her.

A wave of nausea washed over me. It was a combination of the chilling cold, the pain in my leg, and the sickening twist in my gut. I collapsed onto the bed, the room spinning around me.

After a few minutes, I heard a small crash from the living room, followed by Scarlett's shrill, fake apology. "Oh, Liam, I'm so clumsy! I'm so sorry!"

I forced myself to my feet and went to see what happened. On the floor, shattered into a dozen pieces, was a clay vase I'd made in a pottery class years ago. It was lopsided and ugly, but Liam had always insisted on keeping it on the mantle, claiming he loved it because I'd made it.

Scarlett was looking at me, a small, smug smile on her lips. "It was an accident," she said, her voice devoid of any real remorse.

I looked at the broken pieces, then back at her. I expected to feel a pang of loss, of anger. Instead, I felt... nothing. It was just a thing. A broken thing from a broken life.

"It doesn't matter," I said, my voice flat. I turned to go back to the bedroom.

But Scarlett wasn't done. "Wait," she said, her voice sharp. She walked over to the side table where I kept a small, framed photo. It was the only picture I had of my mother, who had passed away when I was a teenager. It was faded and creased, my most precious possession.

Before I could react, she snatched it. "What's this?" she asked, feigning curiosity. And then, with a deliberate, vicious movement, she ripped the photograph in half.

Something inside me snapped. A raw, guttural scream tore from my throat. I lunged at her, my cast-encased leg forgotten. "What did you do?" I shrieked, my hands reaching for her.

We crashed into the wall, a tangle of limbs and fury. I wasn't thinking, I was just reacting, a primal need to hurt her for destroying the one thing I had left of my mother.

Liam ran into the room, pulling me off of her. "Olivia, stop it! What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled, his hands gripping my arms painfully.

"She ripped it! She ripped my mother's picture!" I sobbed, pointing a trembling finger at the torn pieces on the floor.

"She's sick, Olivia! She's not herself!" Liam shouted, his face contorted with anger. He was defending her. He was blaming me. "You know how fragile she is! Why do you always have to be so difficult? You've been this way ever since I got back, always making things harder!"

His words were like a slap in the face. All the pain, the betrayal, the heartbreak of the last few months coalesced into a single, crushing weight. The room tilted, the edges of my vision going dark. The last thing I saw was Liam's furious face before the darkness swallowed me whole.