Chapter 5

I woke up to a sharp, stabbing pain in my side with every breath.

The doctor was standing over me, a forced smile on his face.

"You're awake, Ms. Schultz. The surgery went well. Your injuries weren't severe. You'll make a full recovery."

Lies.

My face was pale against the white pillow, and I clutched the thin hospital blanket in my fist.

"Did you take it?" I asked, my voice a hoarse whisper.

The doctor' s professional smile froze. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He remembered Jackson's orders to keep it a secret.

"Take what, Ms. Schultz? We simply set the broken bones."

A dry, bitter laugh escaped my lips.

"Don't lie to me," I said, my voice gaining strength. "I'm getting a full body scan at another hospital the second I leave here. And when it shows a missing rib, my lawyer won't just sue you for malpractice, he will end you. He will make sure you never practice medicine again."

I made a move to sit up, to get out of the bed, a bluff to show him I was serious.

The doctor panicked.

"No, no, please, Ms. Schultz, don't get up! You'll tear your stitches!"

He rushed to my side, his hands fluttering nervously.

"Please," he begged, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper. "It wasn't my choice. Mr. Graham, he forced me. He threatened to bankrupt the hospital, to pull all of the Stanton funding."

My heart felt like it was bleeding.

Of course. They would move heaven and earth, threaten, and destroy, all for a woman who wasn't even part of their family. All for a trinket made of my bone.

The naive, soft-hearted Brooklyn of my past life was gone. She had been burned to ashes in that fire.

The woman who woke up in her place was made of steel and ice.

"Your excuses are worthless to me," I told the doctor, my voice devoid of pity. "You will face the consequences of your actions. Expect to hear from my lawyer."

Just then, the door to my room opened.

Jackson, Brett, and Andrew walked in, their faces arranged in masks of concern.

And with them was Keira.

Around her delicate neck, on a thin silver chain, hung a small, polished piece of white bone.

My rib.

My eyes locked onto it. The proof of their cruelty, worn like a trophy.

I started to laugh. It was a wild, unhinged sound that made them all stare at me in alarm.

"Brooklyn, calm down," Brett said, stepping forward. "Don't give the doctor a hard time. He did his best."

"Don't touch me," I snapped as he reached for my hand. His touch felt like ice.

Jackson's brow furrowed in annoyance. "What are you throwing a fit about now, Brooklyn?"

I smiled, a sharp, dangerous curving of my lips.

"Are you still pretending, Jackson? Still playing the part of the loving brother?"

He had the audacity to look confused. "What are you talking about?"

"My rib," I said, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper as I pointed a trembling finger at the necklace on Keira's chest. "You took my rib."

Jackson's eyes flickered, and he shot a furious look at the cowering doctor. The mask was gone. His face was a cold, hard sheet of indifference.

"So what if I did?" he said, his tone casual, dismissive. "It's just a bone. It's not like you needed it. I gave it to Keira."

He looked at me as if I were a foolish child complaining about a stolen toy.

"I'll buy you something to make up for it," he added, as if a new handbag could replace a piece of my body.

My chest tightened.

"Make up for it?" I whispered. "How? Why didn't you take one of her ribs, Jackson? Since she's so precious to you?"

How do you make up for a lifetime of lies? For a death sentence? For a love that was a complete sham?

Jackson's face darkened. "Don't be so petty, Brooklyn. Keira would never be so ungrateful."

That line again. That comparison. It was the knife he always used, twisting it deeper each time.

"You're right," I said, my voice rising with a hysterical edge. "I am petty. I was petty to let her move into our home. I was petty to let you give her all the love that was supposed to be mine!"

My voice cracked.

"Is this what you wanted, Jackson? To see me like this? Broken and begging?"

He just stared at me, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He seemed genuinely taken aback by my outburst.

For a moment, his hand started to reach for me, as if by instinct.

But Keira stopped him.

She wrapped her arms around his, her face a mask of wounded innocence.

"Jackson, maybe I shouldn't have taken it," she whispered. "If it makes Brooklyn so unhappy... I should just go."

"Don't be ridiculous," he grunted, his attention immediately shifting back to her.

"I'll go," I said, my voice flat. "But she's leaving my property behind."

Before anyone could react, I lunged forward. Ignoring the searing pain in my side, I grabbed the chain around Keira's neck and ripped it free.

Keira shrieked as if I had stabbed her.

The three brothers instantly surrounded her, their bodies forming a protective shield.

"What is wrong with you?" Andrew yelled, his face contorted in a furious snarl.

Jackson's face was thunderous. He advanced on me, his eyes blazing.

"You're just jealous!" he roared, his voice echoing in the small room. "You're jealous that we care about her! You've always been a spoiled, selfish brat, but this is too much!"

He grabbed my arm, his grip like a vise.

"I'm warning you, Brooklyn. Stop pushing it."

My hand, which clutched the necklace, was trembling.

He was right. I was jealous. But not of her.

I was jealous of the girl I used to be. The girl who believed their lies, who lived in a golden cage of their affection.

In their eyes, everything I did was wrong. Every protest was a tantrum. Every tear was a manipulation.

Jackson pushed me back against the wall, his face inches from mine. His eyes were bloodshot.

"This family only has room for one of you," he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper. "And if you keep this up, it won't be you."

His words were a physical blow.

He wrenched the necklace from my grasp, his fingers brushing against mine. They were cold as death.

He looked down at the bone in his hand, then back at me, a cruel smirk on his lips.

"Keira wearing a piece of you should be an honor, Brooklyn. You should be grateful."