Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss novel Chapter 5

“Queena, get away from her!” cried Rachel Young, Queena’s best friend. “What if it’s contagious? Her skin is all bumpy and disgusting, like a toad’s!”

George strode over, his face contorting in disgust at the sight of Yvonne’s scars. “Who told you to wear that?” he barked. “Go change right now! You’re an embarrassment.”

Teresa and Jeffrey both stared at the marks on Yvonne’s body, their expressions a mixture of shock and something unreadable.

As a doctor, Jeffrey immediately recognized the scars for what they were—the horrifying tapestry of whip marks, cuts, and burns.

“Your… your arms… How did you get these?” he asked, his voice trembling.

Yvonne’s gaze was fixed on Queena as she answered, her voice eerily calm.

“These? They’re all gifts from my sister’s biological mother. When I was five, she beat me with an iron rod because she didn’t like my cooking. Another time, she starved me for two days. I was so dizzy I stole half a piece of bread, so she cut me with a knife and told me to eat my fill. Oh, and this one.”

She pointed to a deep, circular scar on her arm. “I got this for being first in my class on an exam. She was so furious she pressed a lit cigarette into my arm. She told me a worthless piece of trash like me belonged in the gutter and had no right to get the top score.”

“That monster! How could they do that to you?” Teresa broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

Jeffrey, his eyes filled with pity, took off his suit jacket and draped it over Yvonne’s shoulders.

But Yvonne ignored them, her voice continuing with chilling detachment.

“Later, a kind police officer helped me press charges against my foster parents for abuse. But Dad said that since they raised me, I owed them, even if it was a debt of misery. He told me I had to drop the lawsuit so it wouldn't tarnish my sister’s reputation. He said if I didn’t, he would disown me and throw me out.”

“Yvonne, I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry. It’s all my fault. Hit me, please, hit me as hard as you can. Let me atone for their sins,” Queena suddenly cried, dropping to her knees before Yvonne. She sobbed so pitifully it was as if she were the one who had suffered all the injustice.

“Queena, what are you doing? Get up!” George rushed over, his heart aching at the sight of his daughter on the floor.

“It’s not your fault, Queena. You were just a baby, you didn’t know anything.” Jeffrey’s attention had already shifted from Yvonne as he reached down to help Queena up.

Teresa stiffened, her expression torn, but she resisted the urge to go to Queena.

“No, it’s all my fault! I stole Yvonne’s life and made her suffer so much. She has every right to hate me, to frame me, to push me down the stairs! I’m a sinner, I…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Queena’s body went limp, her eyes fluttered shut, and she collapsed in a faint.