The Marriage That Never Existed novel Chapter 28

Chapter2

“Does it taste good?” Carter asked me.

I nodded and smiled. “It does. Anything my brother gives me is always good.”

But soon, my mouth began to burn. My throat, my stomach, even my chest felt like fire. The pain was so sharp I rolled on the floor.

Laughter echoed around me.

“I told you she’d drink it.”

“Of course it’s delicious, chili–infused water is always delicious.”

“Let’s see if she dares to tattle again.”

I desperately wanted water, but my brothers had already hoarded every pitcher in the house.

I scrambled into the kitchen, climbed onto the counter, and twisted the faucet open. Tilting back my head, I gulped down mouthfuls of cold water.

Behind me, their mocking voices rang out. “Look at her! She looks like a frog.”

The icy water filled my stomach until it bulged painfully. My tears fell nonstop. After just a few steps, I doubled over and vomited.

The antique rug was ruined, stained with bile and yellow mess.

Ms. Doyle, the housekeeper, came rushing over. Her voice was low but sharp.

“What’s wrong with you? Just like your mother, always causing trouble. Keep this up, and I’ll tell

Mr. Harrington.”

She scooped me up, but it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I clutched the moon–shaped silver locket around my neck, the only thing my mother had left me. Was it because I wasn’t obedient enough that she abandoned me?

If I learned to behave, would she finally come back?

After Ms. Doyle cleaned me up, I curled under the blanket. My stomach ached. My face burned with fever. The enormous bed felt cold and uncomfortable no matter how I turned.

Chapter2

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I couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t until midnight that I heard Father’s footsteps.

I slipped out of bed, cracked the door, and peeked out.

I wanted to tell him my stomach hurt.

But his expression frightened me, dark and severe, like a wolf in the night.

“Why are you still awake? Why can’t you learn to behave?”

I stared down at my pale feet. So that was it, because I still wasn’t good enough, Mom wasn’t

coming back.

My lips trembled as I tried not to cry.

Father sighed, scooped me into his arms, and carried me back to bed.

“Don’t be so willful next time.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He tucked the blanket around me. I opened my mouth to whisper about my pain, but his phone

rang. He turned away, voice clipped as he answered, and walked out.

I knew he was always busy. He hardly ever ate with us.

So I stayed silent.

Half–asleep, I dreamed of my mother.

She had left when I was three years

old.

That day, I hadn’t obeyed her. She’d wanted to take me on the carousel, but I told Father instead.

He’d been furious.

“Evelyn, how dare you manipulate our child like this?”

They fought, loud, vicious.

But in the end, we went to Crescent Park Carousel.

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Mom bought me ice cream and told me to stay put.

Then a butterfly fluttered past, so bright, so pretty. I chased it. By the time I turned back, Mom

was gone.

Father arrived with a crowd of men in black suits, sealing off the park. His first look at me was terrifying, like a monster ready to devour me.

“Where is she? Where’s your mother?”

I burst into sobs.

From that day on, my mother never came back.

And my three brothers believed it was all my fault.

That because of me, they had no mother.

So I tried. I tried harder to behave, to obey Father and my brothers.

If I became good enough, maybe… just maybe… Mom would return.