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Chapter_1
Skylar Sullivan lay bedridden in a filthy room, her eyes burning with contempt as she stared at the two people on the couch. Her limbs had been lost in a devastating car accident, and now, paralyzed, she was confined to a narrow bed.
The two people on the couch didn’t spare her a single glance. In fact, it was as though they didn’t even see her as human.
Christopher Fowler, her boyfriend of seven years, spoke with a dismissive tone. “I’ve never liked her,” he said coldly. “She’s the one who’s been clinging to me all this time. Maisy, I’ve loved you since college. You’re the one I’ve always wanted.”
Maisy Williams giggled, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Do you think she’ll mind if we do this? Should we call someone to help her?”
Christopher scoffed. “As if she’d even be able to feel anything in the state she’s in!”
Skylar’s lips trembled with fury, but starvation had drained her strength. She could barely summon the energy to speak, let alone curse them for their brazenness.
It had been days since anyone had bothered to care for her. Bedsores had scarred her body, and the rot of her skin sent a foul odor into the air.
Maisy and Christopher had been the closest people to her, yet they had treated her as nothing more than a nuisance. Maisy, raised by Skylar’s parents in her stead, had always overshadowed her. And now, Skylar could only watch as Maisy held Christopher’s attention—just as she always had.
Skylar’s eyes fixed on the needle marks that marred her arm. She remembered how her blood had been drawn again and again, each transfusion a sacrifice made for Maisy’s sake. But this was the gratitude she received in return.
“Skylar, you shouldn’t even be alive,” Maisy sneered. “Your very existence reminds me of my background. Who cares that you’re Mom and Dad’s biological daughter? They never treated you like one. They used you as my personal blood bank.”
She leaned in and kissed Christopher, her gaze piercing through Skylar with condescension. “Even your boyfriend belongs to me now.”
Her words were like daggers. “Your existence means nothing. You should be honored that we’ve allowed you to live this long. After all, you’ve served your purpose.”
Christopher wrapped his arms around Maisy, eyes full of affection. “You’re right. But now that I’m cured, I don’t need her anymore. Why is she still alive? We’ve starved her for days—she should’ve died by now.”
“We’ll force some meds down her throat later,” Maisy added with a smirk. “It’ll only be a matter of time.”
Skylar’s emaciated face flushed with tears of rage. Her body burned, a sharp, intense heat radiating from within. She could feel life slipping away from her, drowning in regret as the world around her faded to black.
Skylar had once tried to please them. She had spent her life doing everything she could to be accepted by the family who took her in—after they had mistakenly brought Maisy home instead of her. They had often demanded her blood, and she had never refused, even when each transfusion had taken a toll on her health.
Despite her efforts, they had only scorned her. Maisy, always feigning innocence, was lauded as the perfect daughter, while Skylar’s sacrifice was taken for granted.
The pain had been unbearable—physically and emotionally. But now, with death looming, Skylar realized the truth: her blood, her sacrifices, had been nothing more than tools in a cruel game.
“Skylar, don’t make this difficult,” Jeffrey Williams, her father, barked. “You’re not in any danger. Why can’t you just show some pity for Maisy?”
Maisy, with her usual air of fragility, feigned concern. “Please, Skylar. I know we’ve asked a lot of you, but just one more donation. Then I’ll make it up to you. I’ll give you everything I have.”
Skylar’s eyes hardened. The Ferrari Maisy mentioned was a joke—one of the many possessions that Maisy took for granted, yet Skylar had never once been allowed to have her own.
“You really think I care about your presents?” Skylar sneered, her voice bitter. “You think giving me a car will make up for everything?”
“Skylar, you’re being unreasonable!” Sadie Williams, her mother, raised her hand to strike Skylar. “Why do you always covet Maisy’s things? You’ve already taken so much from her. Now you want to steal more?”
Skylar met her gaze, unflinching. Sadie froze, her expression faltering for a moment. “What do you want from me, Skylar?”
“I want you to stop pretending,” Skylar replied coldly, her voice firm. “Stop pretending like I owe you anything. I’ve given you everything. You’ve taken everything from me. But not anymore.”
With that, Skylar stood up, her legs shaking beneath her. For the first time in a long while, she could feel the power in her own body. The pain was intense, but it was a welcome sensation. She had something more important to do—something far more significant than appeasing these people.