Chapter 4

The air in the car was so oppressive it was suffocating.

Alistair turned on the stereo, and my favorite song began to play.

"Don't be so tense, Sweetie."

Alistair said gently as he drove,

"We're just going home."

I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at him or answer.

The car slowly left the city and drove onto a road leading to the suburbs.

I knew we were almost there.

The car finally stopped in front of a secluded villa.

It looked exactly as I remembered it—a house that felt more like a tomb.

Alistair cut the engine and turned to look at me.

"We're home."

He unbuckled my seatbelt, then got out and walked around to open my door.

"Do you need me to carry you?"

I ignored him and propped myself up, standing by the car door.

My legs still felt a bit wobbly, but I forced myself to stand steady, not letting him see my weakness.

Alistair nodded, thoroughly satisfied.

"You're recovering much faster than I expected."

The door opened, and my mother, Brenda, emerged.

She was dressed in a modest, tasteful dress, her hair meticulously styled.

"You're back."

Her voice was soft.

"Mom,"

Alistair greeted her warmly.

I looked at her, but no words came out of my mouth.

"Come in quickly, your father is waiting for you inside."

In the living room, my father, Richard, sat rigidly on the sofa.

He was a quiet man; the number of times I'd spoken to him growing up could be counted on one hand.

He looked up, glanced at me, then quickly looked down again.

"Sit,"

Father finally spoke, gesturing to the sofa opposite him.

Alistair helped me sit, then sat beside me, tightly gripping my hand.

"Dad, Mom,"

Alistair broke the silence.

"The time is right."

He took the manila envelope from his bag, pulled out the CT scan, and handed it over.

"Look."

Father and Mother leaned in, carefully taking the scan, their eyes glistening with a sickening, triumphant joy.

Their fingers lingered over the large shadow, a possessive, sickening tenderness in their touch.

"This is wonderful... truly wonderful..."

"After more than twenty years, we've finally reached this day."

I looked at these three people, supposedly my closest family, and a torrent of uncontrollable hatred and despair erupted from the depths of my being.

"You're all so happy, but did it ever occur to you that I might not want this?"

Their smiles froze on their faces.

Alistair's grip tightened, crushing my hand almost to the point of breaking.

"Elara!"

I yanked my hand away and stood up.

"Why should I die for someone who never even lived?"

I coldly stared at these people who so readily professed their "love" for me.

Father suddenly stood up, pointing at me, trembling with rage.

"How dare you! How can you say such a thing? Everything you have was given to you by her! Now it's time for you to repay her!"

Alistair lunged forward, grabbing my arm.

"It seems my 'therapy' hasn't quite taken hold yet."

He turned to my parents.

"Dad, Mom, please go back to your room. I need to speak with her alone."

Father snorted, then pulled my still-hesitant mother, turning and walking upstairs.

Only Alistair and I remained in the living room.

The gentleness on his face was gone, replaced by icy control.

"It seems I've been too lenient with you."

He dragged me towards the basement door.

"It's time I reminded you what happens when you don't obey."