Chapter 21

Ever staggered further into the house, her alcohol-laden breath filling the room. Her parents exchanged uneasy glances, their disapproval of her drunken state briefly overshadowed by Emma’s worsening condition.

When they took a glimpse look at Emma, who was lying down on the couch her breath was quicken. And she trembled uncontrollably. Her skin was pale and damp with sweat. 

“Ever,” her father said sharply, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and command. “Your sister is very sick. Do something!”

Ever smirked bitterly, her eyes glassy yet somewhat sharp with simmering resentment. “Why would I do anything for her?” she slurred, her voice laced with defiance. “You’ve made it clear who the real child is. You don’t care about me,” she said mockingly, as if the situation was a joke to her.

Her mother’s face tightened, but for a moment, there was no anger, only desperation. “Ever,” she pleaded, her voice softer now, “please, we’re sorry if we’ve hurt you. But Emma, she’s your sister. If there’s anything you can do to help her, please do it,” her mother begged.

Ever swayed slightly, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at them playfully. “What? An apology is all it takes? You think that fixes days of being ignored or being treated like the lesser one?” She shook her head, letting out a dry laugh. “No. I’m not doing anything. You figure it out, since you know it all.”

Her parents looked stricken, their apologies spilling out faster, more frantic. They promised to treat Ever better, using every word they could think of to please her. They vowed to give her the attention she deserved, to make her the center of their focus. They promised her everything, assuring her that they would treat her better than Emma. But Ever remained unmoved. Her resentment had grown too deeply rooted to be swayed by their words.

Meanwhile, Emma’s trembling grew worse. Her breathing became shallow, and her parents’ frantic attempts to calm her only added to her uneasiness. Emma could barely hear their apologies over the pounding in her head, but one thing was clear her sister was enjoying this. Ever’s expression said it all.

Something isn’t right about her, Emma thought, her mind racing through the haze of fever and pain. She locked eyes with Ever, who watched her with an almost mocking smile. Emma realized her sister might have done something maybe she had caused this.

“Ever,” Emma croaked, her voice weak but steady enough to convey her suspicion. “What did you do to me?”

Ever raised a brow, feigning innocence. “Me?” she asked, her tone light.

Emma nodded faintly, her eyes narrowing.

“I didn’t do anything, dear sister. Maybe you’re just unlucky.” Ever leaned in closer, her tone dropping to a whisper so only Emma could hear. “Or maybe,” she said with a wicked grin, “this is fate putting you in your place.”

“Ever, don’t be like this. If you have anything or know anything you can do, please do it and help your sister. Do you like seeing her in this condition?” her mother asked, her voice calm and pleading.

Ever let out a bitter laugh, the sound cracking through the room like shattered glass. She staggered back as if she might fall, her eyes glinting with resentment. “I should help her? Come on, don’t try to guilt me into this. Where was this concern for me when I was the one suffering at your hands?” she spat, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “She was there, smirking at my pain. And now, she needs my help?”

Her gaze turned to Emma, and a mocking smile tugged at her lips. “And to top it all, I don't even know anything I can do for her. Besides, the situation she’s in now suits her perfectly. Look at her gentle, calm, and so quiet for once.” She gestured toward Emma with a casual wave of her hand, as if Emma’s suffering was nothing more than a trivial spectacle.

Emma’s chest tightened with fear and anger. Her mind raced to Damien the one person who might be able to figure out what was happening. But Damien wasn’t around. He had left to investigate Ever’s wrongdoings, and there was no sign of him returning anytime soon.

Emma’s body trembled as fear consumed her. Her body wiggled in fear that she might lose her life. “Ever, please, don't do this to me. Please, I'm in pain,” She cried.

For a brief moment, Ever looked at her sister and went silent. Her eyes seemed to scan Emma, as though she were assessing her desperation. But just as quickly, she burst into laughter, her voice sharp and taunting.

“‘Ever, please, don’t do this to me. Please, I’m in pain,’” Ever mimicked, her tone mocking and cruel. She threw Emma a bitter look, her smile cold and unrelenting.

Emma’s heart sank as she realized Ever had no intention of helping her. Swallowing her pride, she turned her tear-streaked face to her parents, seeking their attention.

 “Call Damien,” Emma whispered to her parents, her voice trembling, barely above a whisper. “He might know what’s wrong or what he can do to help.”

Her father nodded and reached for his phone. As he began to search for Damien’s number, he paused, frowning. “I don’t have his number,” he admitted, turning to Emma. “Do you have it?”

Emma’s voice shook as she replied, “yes I do.” She gestured weakly toward her phone. Her mother stood up quickly and retrieved the device. 

They searched through Emma’s contacts until they found Damien’s number. Her father entered it into his phone and dialed, the ringing tone filling the room.

As her parents’ attention was focused on the call, Ever leaned closer to Emma, her tone low and dripping with malice. “You can call Damien all you want, Emma,” she whispered, her smile cold and taunting. “But he’s not here, is he? He’s out of town. And guess what? At this stage nobody can save you, except from me,” 

Emma's face widen in terror as her breathing quicken.