Chapter 3

The next morning, Daniel and Ethan cornered Olivia in the living room. They stood before her, their arms crossed, their faces grim. Clara was nowhere to be seen, but her presence lingered in the air like a toxic perfume.

"We need to talk about your attitude towards Clara," Daniel began, his tone that of a disappointed father. "She is trying her best to fit in, and all you do is push her away. She looks up to you, Olivia. She just wants a sister. Can't you show her a little compassion?"

"She cried for hours last night," Ethan added, his voice filled with reproach. "She thinks you hate her. After everything she's been through, is it so hard to be kind?"

Olivia stared at them, a hollow feeling in her chest. They had no idea. They saw Clara' s carefully constructed facade of vulnerability, and they had bought it completely.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice weary.

As if on cue, Clara appeared in the doorway, her eyes red and swollen. She was holding a small, worn music box. It was a gift from Daniel and Ethan, given to Olivia on her sixteenth birthday. It played a tune that only the three of them knew the significance of.

"I' m sorry," Clara whispered, looking at the floor. "I didn't mean to cause trouble. I was just in Olivia's room, and I saw this. It's so beautiful." She looked up, her eyes fixed on Daniel. "It reminds me of one my mother had, before... before we lost everything."

Her voice broke on the last few words. The implication was clear. She wanted it.

Daniel' s expression softened instantly. He looked from Clara' s pleading face to the music box, then to Olivia.

"Olivia, Clara loves this music box," he said, his voice firm. "You have so many things. Let her have it. It would mean a lot to her."

"But... that was a gift from you two," Olivia protested, her voice weak. It was one of the few things she truly treasured.

"We know," Ethan said gently, but his words were a blow. "And we can buy you a new one. A better one. This is just an old thing. For Clara, it' s a connection to her past. It's important."

They didn't wait for her consent. Daniel walked over to where Clara stood, took the music box from her hands, and then turned back to Olivia as if expecting her to object. When she remained silent, frozen in disbelief, he walked back to Clara and placed it in her hands.

"Here, Clara," he said with a warm smile. "It's yours now."

"We'll get you that new limited-edition one you saw online, Olivia," Ethan promised, as if that could possibly compensate for the loss. "It's much nicer than this one anyway."

The music box was more than just an object. It was a symbol of their shared history, of a time when they were inseparable. The tune it played was from a song they had written together as kids, a silly song about their adventures. The promise they made when they gave it to her was that they would always be there for each other, no matter what.

And now, they had given that promise away to someone else.

Clara clutched the music box to her chest, a triumphant glint in her teary eyes that only Olivia could see. "Thank you," she sobbed. "Thank you both so much. You' re the best family a girl could ask for."

The performance was over. The objective was achieved. Olivia felt a wave of nausea. She turned and walked away, heading back to the sterile silence of her room.

Later that evening, a faint, tinny melody drifted up from the living room. It was the music box. Clara was playing it, over and over, the sound a constant, mocking reminder of her loss. It was a deliberate act of cruelty, a way to tell Olivia that even her memories were no longer her own.

Olivia curled up in her bed, pulling a pillow over her head to block out the sound, but she could still hear it. The sound seeped through the pillow, through the walls, and into her mind.

As the evening wore on, the painkillers started to wear off. The familiar, agonizing pain began to creep back into her bones. It started in her joints, a deep, grinding ache, and quickly spread, consuming her. She gasped, her body arching in a silent scream.

She reached for her pill bottle, her vision blurring. The door to her room creaked open.

It was Ethan. He stood in the doorway, his face a mixture of concern and confusion as he saw her trembling, sweat-drenched form.

"Olivia?" he asked, his voice hesitant. "Are you okay?"