The Marriage That Never Existed novel Chapter 33

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None of my brothers spoke.

“Then none of you eat,” Father said coldly. “Lock them in the basement. Ruby was shut away for a day and a night. You’ll stay three.”

Andrew was the first to speak.

“Dad, it was my idea. Mom left, and I kept thinking it was because of Ruby. I let my brothers bully

her. It’s my fault.”

Carter broke down crying.

“Dad, I just wanted to see Mom again. I thought teasing Ruby was fun. I never meant for it to go

this far.”

Blake lowered his head.

“Dad, we know we were wrong. We’ll treat her well from now on.”

Father’s arms dropped heavily at his sides.

“Do you really think you’ll get another chance?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing for a long moment.

“No… the fault is mine. I buried myself in work and neglected you all.”

His voice hardened.

“Jenkins, bring the Harrington house rules.”

The butler stiffened, his whole body trembling.

“Sir… they’re only seven years old. Isn’t this too much?”

“One more word and you can get out.”

Moments later, the crack of the riding crop split the silence, followed by screams that tore

through the estate.

I didn’t

go downstairs.

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I only watched from the upstairs landing, the same way they once stood above me, laughing.

Father lashed them until he grew exhausted, then flung the whip aside. Blood streaked the marble

floor.

Jenkins hurried forward with a towel to wipe his hands.

“Without discipline, they’ll never learn. Lock them in the basement for three days. And call a doctor, make sure they don’t die.”

“Yes, sir.”

But when it had been me, there had been no doctor. I had nearly died.

Under a physician’s care, my brothers recovered quickly, lively again in no time.

At dinner, Father picked food from the dishes and set it in my bowl.

The flavors were empty in my mouth. I swallowed, then gagged and vomited everything back up.

I froze, staring at them in fear, waiting for scolding, for ridicule.

But no one called me dirty.

Instead, Father gathered me into his arms.

“Still not feeling well?”

Even my brothers set down their chopsticks, watching me nervously.

I shook my head. My body was too tired, too heavy. Sleep tugged at me.

Through blurred eyes, I saw tears shimmering at the corners of their eyes.

“Dad,” Andrew whispered, “she hasn’t been able to eat much lately.”

Father’s tone dropped into a low growl.

“Because of everything you’ve done to her.”

Ms. Green, the family nutritionist, tried everything. She shaped cakes into tiny carrots and rabbits, hoping I’d take a few bites. Sometimes I managed a little, but not enough.

Every weigh–in ended with her shaking her head.

A few days later, the doorbell rang.

Chloe Baxter stood at the entrance, clutching a bright red toy truck. She peeked timidly from

behind the doorframe.

“Andrew?” she called softly.

My eyes locked on the truck in her hands.

I remembered my brothers once saying they wished Chloe were their sister instead of me.

Andrew excused himself upstairs. Blake went to fetch water.

Carter glanced at me. “Ruby, are you hungry?”

I shook my head.

They never once looked at Chloe.

After a while, the phone rang and they left the room.

Only Chloe and I remained in the living room.

Suddenly, she hurled the truck to the ground and burst into loud, pitiful sobs.

“Andrew! Blake! Carter! Ruby broke my truck!”

I bolted upright from the sofa, heart racing, and tried to run.

But Carter stepped in front of me, blocking my way.

“Running so fast, what are you hiding?”

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I had grown so thin that Carter could lift me easily in his arms.

Blake held a glass of water to my lips.

“Our sister must be thirsty.”

Andrew carried in a whole box of toys, setting it in front of me.

“Don’t envy anyone else. Whatever she has, you’ll have too. I’ve got plenty, all yours.”

But Chloe kept crying.

Carter finally lost his patience.

“Enough. What’s the point of insisting on something that isn’t yours?”

“Our sister can’t even carry a truck that big.”

“So are you leaving on your own, or do we throw you out?”

I had heard people say Chloe’s father was a hero firefighter. That night, when she spiked a fever, her grandmother panicked. Maybe that’s why she said those things, that I was a thief.

But I hadn’t stolen anything. I was innocent.

So why did they all say I had?

I blinked hard, trying to make sense of it, but I couldn’t.

Chloe’s eyes were red as she ran away sobbing.

Once, whenever Chloe cried, my brothers would’ve rushed to comfort her, to pick up the fallen

truck.

But now Andrew tossed the toy into the trash.

“Jenkins, don’t let her in here again,” he ordered.

I felt nothing. I just clutched the cup of water and gulped it down, then wriggled from Carter’s

arms.

Without a word, I climbed the stairs, wrapped myself in my blanket, and fell asleep.