I Thought 'Home' Meant Warmth Nope, Just a Doghouse... Till I'm the HEIR, And It's novel Chapter 11

Chapter 3

I trailed behind Mom like a shadow, following her into Lily’s hospital room.

Lily looked up, her eyes bright with hope. “Mom, when can I go home?”

Silence.

I watched the light in Lily’s eyes slowly die out.

Bad luck-two bags got used yesterday on another patient,” Mom said with a strained smile. “It’s okay. If we got enough once, we can do it again.”

There’s no guarantee we’ll get enough again!”

ly’s hands slammed down on the bed frame as she shrieked, “And this time it’s all because of-”

he stopped mid-sentence, as if suddenly realizing something.

Mom stared at her, startled.

After Grandpa died, I spent every day walking on eggshells around Mom, trying desperately to please her. I knew every one of her expressions by heart.

his version of Lily-Mom didn’t recognize her.

Mom had adopted Lily from an orphanage when I was eight years old.

In the day she signed the papers, Mom stood in front of a crowd of reporters and said she hoped this little girl would help her achieve her life’s dream.

As a leading expert in hemophilia research, Mom’s greatest dream was for every child with the condition to grow up like a normal kid-full of adventure and

Not trapped in a tiny, careful box forever.

o Mom poured everything into her research, determined to develop a capsule that would allow hemophilia patients to clot normally.

he never restricted Lily’s activities. In fact, she encouraged her to rock climb, hike, skateboard, go on backpacking trips…

lut year after year, Mom’s research didn’t progress as quickly as she’d hoped.

spent most of my time stuck at home, waiting for Mom’s calls telling me Lily needed blood.

Don’t go anywhere. What if Lily needs a transfusion and we can’t find you?”

Take care of yourself. If Lily needs blood and you’re malnourished, what then?”

You’re the older sister. Be responsible. Stay home.”

At first, I felt hurt. I wanted to argue.

¡ut every time I walked past her study and saw the light burning late into the night, saw Mom’s shrinking frame hunched over her desk, the words would die n my throat.

Mom wanted so badly to achieve her dream. I didn’t want to be the thing that held her back.

started telling myself that I was still loved.

That once Mom achieved her dream, she’d go back to being the mom who used to love me.

But before that day ever came, Grandpa died.

And Mom hated me so much she wished I were dead.

Every day, I wanted to die just to atone for what I’d done. I just wanted Mom to forgive me, even a little.

Now I really am dead.

And Mom still hates me.

Maybe even more than before.