Chapter 2

Daniel stared at me, his handsome face contorted with a mix of fury and confusion. He truly believed this was some kind of elaborate ploy on my part.

"So that's your game," he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "You think by pretending to sacrifice yourself for your sister, you can make me feel guilty? Make me beg you to marry me instead? It's a pathetic move, Evelyn."

He thought he had me all figured out. In his world, every action was a calculated move for power or affection. The idea that I might genuinely want nothing to do with him was completely beyond his comprehension.

Sarah, seeing her chance, immediately seized the role of the innocent victim caught in the crossfire. She rushed to Daniel's side, clinging to his arm as tears streamed down her face.

"Daniel, don't be angry with my sister," she sobbed, burying her face in his sleeve. "It's all my fault. She's just trying to protect me. She knows how much I... how much I admire you. She loves you so much, she's willing to marry a dying man so I can be happy."

Her words were perfectly crafted, each one designed to paint me as a lovesick martyr and herself as the pure-hearted object of everyone's affection. She was twisting my decision into another testament to my supposed undying love for Daniel.

I had to give her credit. She was a phenomenal actress.

But I was no longer her audience.

"Sarah, stop it," I said, my voice sharp and devoid of any warmth. It cut through her dramatic sobs and made her flinch.

She looked up, her tear-stained face a picture of wounded innocence. "Sister...?"

"If you admire him so much, then marry him," I said flatly. "The path is clear. Take it. Stop pretending this is some great tragedy for you."

The mask slipped. For a second, a flicker of raw anger flashed in her eyes before being quickly smothered by more tears. The directness of my words had caught her off guard. She wasn't used to me calling her out on her manipulations.

"How can you say that?" she wailed, her voice rising in pitch. "How can you be so cruel?"

Sensing she was losing control of the situation, she resorted to her ultimate weapon. Her body went limp, and with a soft, theatrical gasp, she started to crumple to the floor in a dramatic faint.

It was a move she'd perfected since childhood to get her way.

Daniel, completely ensnared in her web, reacted instantly. He caught her just before she hit the ground, scooping her up into his arms. He cradled her protectively, glaring at me over her seemingly unconscious form.

"Look what you've done," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. "You've been so obsessed with your work, you've forgotten how to be human. Sarah has a delicate constitution. Your coldness is too much for her."

He held my sister, the architect of my ruin, and blamed me for her crocodile tears. The sheer, breathtaking irony of it all was almost funny. In my past life, his words would have shattered me. Now, they just sounded pathetic.

I was so tired of this play. Tired of the ridiculous script and the terrible actors.

Without another word, I turned my back on them. On the sight of Daniel cradling Sarah, on my parents' conflicted and disappointed faces.

"I'm going to my room to pack," I announced to the empty air in front of me. "I'll be moving out to await the marriage arrangements with the Thorne family."

I didn't wait for a response. I didn't need their permission or their approval. I walked out of the living room, leaving the chaos and the drama behind me.

With every step I took up the stairs, I felt a weight lifting from my shoulders. The chains of my past life, of my misguided devotion and sacrifice, were finally breaking. I was walking away from my own tragedy and toward an unknown future.

And for the first time in a very, very long time, I felt a flicker of something that felt like hope.