My mother stepped closer, her voice sharp. “Liza has stem cell treatment coming up. If she goes to jail, it will ruin everything. You’ll just say it was you. Joaquin will get you out anyway.”

My throat went dry.

“I’m not going,” I said. My voice cracked anyway. “Elizabeth is your daughter, but what about me? Am I nothing to you?”

“Smack.”

Her hand hit my face so hard my head snapped to the side.

“You will go,” she said coldly. “Whether you want to or not.”

My father didn’t even hesitate. He struck the back of my neck.

Pain exploded. My vision blurred instantly.

And the last thing I heard was them comforting her.

“Don’t be afraid, Liza. When the police come, just say your sister is unstable. Say she has violent tendencies.”

Then everything went black.

…

Cold. That was the first thing I felt when I woke up.

Damp air clung to my skin, and I was lying on a hard bed beneath a ceiling stained with dark patches I didn’t recognize at first.

“Awake?”

A police officer stood outside the bars, arms folded, voice flat.

“Your parents reported you,” he said. “You admitted to hitting a pedestrian with intent. Evidence matches. You’re under arrest.”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. My throat was too dry.

So they really did it.

For her… they actually did it.

…

Days blurred after that. I couldn’t even tell how many passed, only that time stopped meaning anything inside that place.

On the first night, another inmate shoved me hard into the wall and took my coat.

“New girl, huh?” she sneered. “You think you’re better than us?”

She grabbed my hair and slammed my head against concrete.

“Try crying again and I’ll make you wish you didn’t.”

I didn’t have the strength to fight back properly, only to breathe through the pain.

On the second night, they moved me into a mixed holding cell because of overcrowding.

A man laughed the moment he saw me.

“Fresh meat?” he said, stepping closer. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

I backed away, nails digging into my palm until I felt blood. Someone grabbed me anyway. I fought back, scratched, anything I could manage.

They hit me until my body stopped responding the way I wanted it to.

A guard finally came in and pulled them off, shouting something I barely registered.

On the third night, I just curled up in a corner with a fever burning through my body.

Voices moved around me like I wasn’t even there.

“I heard her husband is some big CEO…”

“Then why is she here? That doesn’t make sense.”

I almost laughed.

Husband.

Where was he when I was here?

Where was anyone?

I pressed my forehead to my knees and stayed still.

…

On the fourth morning, the door finally opened.

“Laureen. You’re being released.”

The light outside hurt my eyes, so I squinted as I stepped out, unsteady.

And then I saw him.

Joaquin.

Standing there in a suit like nothing had ever touched him.

“Laureen.” He rushed forward and pulled me into his arms. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

His hands were warm, his scent clean, too clean compared to everything I had just come from.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly, holding my face. “It’s all taken care of now.”

I didn’t move.

His hand dropped instinctively to my stomach, checking, as if that was the only thing that mattered.

How pathetic.

I almost died in there, and he’s checking that.

“With me here, this won’t happen again,” he said. “I’ll protect you.”

I stared at him. “Really?”

He nodded without hesitation. “Of course.”

“If you had to choose between me and Elizabeth… who would you protect?”

Silence followed. Not even a flicker of doubt this time.

After a long moment, he said, “I would protect you. You and the baby are everything to me.”

I smiled faintly, but my eyes burned, so I turned away.

…

The first thing I did when I got home was shower.

Water hit my skin, and I just stood there under it, unmoving, like I was trying to wash off something that had already sunk too deep to leave.

When I finally stepped out, I stood in front of the mirror and slowly pulled out the fake pillow stuffed under my clothes. My hands trembled slightly as it fell to the floor.

My stomach was flat again. No baby. No future I could hold onto. Only silence and old scars.

“Ding.”

My phone lit up. A video from Elizabeth.

I didn’t want to open it, but I did anyway.

…

Elizabeth lay in bed, soft and perfectly composed, as if nothing had ever happened.

My parents were beside her, tending to her gently, my mother peeling fruit while my father adjusted her blanket, both acting like she was the only child that mattered.

“Dad, Mom, should we visit my sister?” Elizabeth asked sweetly, tilting her head. “I heard prison is really bad…”

My mother scoffed. “Why would we? She’s tough. A little hardship won’t break her.”

My father nodded. “She always exaggerates anyway.”

The video shifted.

Joaquin walked in holding a bowl of warm food, then sat beside Elizabeth’s bed and carefully blew on it.

“Eat while it’s hot,” he said gently.

Elizabeth smiled at him. “You came straight to me after hearing I wasn’t feeling well. It’s just a small fever… you should probably check on Laureen instead and help her get out.”

Joaquin didn’t even look up. “Don’t worry about her. I’ll take care of it later. Right now, you are more important than her.”

After. Always after.

Elizabeth leaned closer to the camera, smiling like she had already won.

The phone slipped from my hand.

“Bang.”

It hit the floor hard.

And something inside me broke completely.

I sank down slowly, knees hitting the tiles, and then it all came out before I could stop it. Not quite crying. Something emptier, something raw and broken that didn’t feel like it belonged to a living person anymore.

I curled up there, shaking, tears mixing with the dampness still on my skin from the shower.

So this is it…

I almost died in prison, and none of them even looked back.

Not my parents. Not him. Not anyone.

…

Days after that, Joaquin noticed something was off.

Elizabeth finally moved out of the villa, but nothing really changed. He just stayed closer to me, like I was something fragile he needed to monitor.

Gentle. Careful. Always watching.

But I knew it wasn’t me he was watching.

It was the baby.

Then one evening, my parents called and invited us to dinner.

In the car, Joaquin kept his arm around me, holding me close, steady and familiar.

“You don’t have to be scared,” he said softly. “I’m here this time, so nothing will happen to you.”

I didn’t answer. I just watched the world pass by outside the window.

When we arrived, the house looked unchanged. Too bright, too normal, almost untouched by everything that had broken inside me.

At the table, I barely touched my food.

My mom kept fussing over Elizabeth, my adopted sister, smiling at her as though she was the center of everything, and my dad followed her lead without hesitation.

Joaquin sat beside me, present in body but never fully here. His attention kept slipping back to her.

Every time she moved, he noticed. Every time she spoke, he listened.

When her fork slipped, he replaced it immediately.

When her glass emptied, he stood up to refill it.

When something touched the corner of her mouth, he reached for a napkin without thinking.

Natural. Automatic. Like it had always been his place.

Elizabeth laughed softly. “Okay, okay, don’t spoil me too much. My sister finally came home, I should behave.”

My mom looked at me and sighed. “She never eats much when she comes here. Always been like this.”

My dad shook his head. “Ever since she was young, she’s been difficult. Never satisfied.”

Something inside me went still, then snapped cleanly.

I pushed my chair back and stood up.

“I only eat less here because I’m allergic to what you always cook,” I said evenly. “Because everything you make is always for her.”

Silence dropped over the table.

I looked at them, then at Joaquin, keeping my voice low but steady.

“I just wanted to live,” I said. “Was that really too much?”

No one responded.

So I turned and walked away.

Elizabeth came after me and grabbed my arm.

“Sister, don’t be mad,” she said softly. “Mom and Dad didn’t mean it…”

I was about to pull away when a shout cut through the street.

“Move! Get out of the way!”

I turned.

A bulldog had broken free from its leash and was charging straight toward us.

Everything collapsed into motion.

My parents and Joaquin reacted at once, rushing toward Elizabeth without a second thought.

“Liza!”

They pulled her behind them, shielding her completely, leaving no space for anything else.

I barely managed to step aside.

The bulldog hit me a second later.

Pain tore through my arm.

It clamped down hard, ripping into skin, and the sound came first, then the burn that followed, sharp and unbearable.

I fell back, vision whitening at the edges.

Through the fading blur, I saw them.

My parents checking Elizabeth frantically, hands over her arms, her face, asking if she was hurt.

Joaquin already had her in his arms, holding her close.

“It’s okay, Liza… I’ve got you…”

His voice stayed calm. Familiar. The same one that used to belong to me.

No one came over. Not once.

Blood ran down my arm, warm against the air, but I just stared at them.

So this is what I’ve become…

Someone they don’t even turn back for.

…

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed again.

My arm was bandaged, throbbing under the gauze.

Outside my room, I could hear them talking to the doctor.

“How is the baby?” my mother asked quickly. “Is it okay? Nothing happened, right?”

My fingers tightened around the blanket.

I sat up and reached for the glass of water beside me.

Then I threw it.

SMASH!

Shards scattered across the floor.

That finally made them turn.

“I’m fine,” I said flatly. “The baby is fine too.”

The doctor looked between us, clearly uncomfortable. I glanced at her and warned her with my eyes never to reveal that I wasn't really pregnant. She nodded understandingly and quickly left.

My mother sighed in relief, then frowned.

“She didn’t even protect herself,” she said. “Lucky the baby’s fine. She’s already so far along, what if something had happened…”

I stared at her.

So that’s all I am to them now.

A container. Nothing else.

Because if anything happens to this baby, Elizabeth loses her “treatment option.” That fake illness of hers. That whole story they all chose to believe.

I almost said it out loud.

Elizabeth isn’t sick at all. She never was.

But I didn’t.

I just swallowed it down.

Let them keep living in it.

Joaquin came closer, sitting beside my bed.

“Laureen,” he said softly. “I thought it was a threat. I was just trying to protect you…”

“It’s fine,” I cut him off. “I understand.”

I didn’t want to hear any more of his explanations.

They were all the same. Always late. Always wrong.

In the days after, they stayed in the hospital with me. All of them but none of them were really there.

My mother kept checking her phone, waiting for updates on Elizabeth.

My father kept finding excuses to leave and call her.

Joaquin sat next to me, but his eyes kept drifting away, like he was somewhere else entirely.

I watched them quietly.

It will be over soon.

That was the only thought I had left.

…

The day I was discharged, I got a call.

“The Sunvale Academy confirmed your enrollment,” the voice said over the line. “You can leave anytime.”

I paused for a second, fingers tightening around the phone.

“Tomorrow,” I said quietly. “I’ll go tomorrow.”

Then I hung up before I could think twice.

Not long after, the door opened and Joaquin stepped in.

“Who was that?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“No one,” I answered without looking at him.

He studied me for a moment, like he was trying to read something I wasn’t saying, then let out a small sigh.

“Tomorrow is my birthday banquet,” he said. “Elizabeth already arranged everything. You’re coming with me.”

I didn’t respond. Not yes, not no. I just stayed quiet.

He took that silence as agreement anyway.

…

The next morning, I pressed a hand lightly over my stomach and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t feel well,” I said softly when he came closer.

Joaquin frowned immediately, stepping toward me. “What kind of pain? Is it the baby?”

“The baby’s kicking too hard,” I added, lowering my gaze. “You should go ahead first. It's your big day. Don't worry, I already prepared your gift. I’ll send it later.”

He hesitated, eyes searching my face like he didn’t fully trust the words, but I kept still. Calm.

After a moment, he exhaled.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay alone?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “It’s just discomfort, not an emergency.”

He reached out, brushing my cheek gently.

“If anything changes, call me immediately,” he said. “Don’t wait. I mean it.”

“I know,” I replied softly.

Then he nodded, finally stepping back.

“I’ll come back early after the dinner,” he added. “Wait for me.”

And then he left.

The moment the door closed, everything went quiet.

I stayed still for a second longer, listening to the silence, making sure he was really gone.

Then I stood up.

I opened the drawer and pulled out three boxes I had prepared long before that day ever came.

The first one was for Joaquin.

Inside was a divorce agreement, already signed, and everything he never bothered to ask about but should have known.

The second was for my parents.

No words inside, just a clean break, everything that tied me to them cut down to nothing.

The third one was heavier than the rest.

That one was for everyone.

A USB drive.

Everything Elizabeth said when she thought no one was listening. Her lies, her fake illness, the story they built around her like it was truth. And buried inside it all, the footage that showed where Joaquin’s eyes always went first.

I wrapped it carefully, then called a delivery service.

When the man arrived, I handed it over without hesitation.

“This goes to the birthday banquet tonight,” I said. “Make sure it’s opened in front of everyone.”

He nodded, not asking questions, and left.

I stood there for a moment after the door closed, staring at the empty space he left behind.

Then I picked up my luggage.

And walked out of the house without once looking back.