Chapter 8

When I opened it, there stood my dear sister, Emily.

She was the only one who knew my address. But of course, she couldn’t keep it to herself.

She had casually let it slip to my parents: “Oh, Wendy’s living on her own now. Who knows if she’s living with someone?”

Thanks to her, my parents had once dragged me home in the middle of the night, insisting on taking me to the doctor because they were convinced I had some “dirty disease.”

And yet, Emily had played the same role as always—the sweet, understanding daughter.

“Wendy,” she started, her tone dripping with fake concern. “Mom said you’ve been ignoring her calls. You’re an adult now; you should be more considerate. Mom and Dad are getting older, you know. What if—”

“I’m not answering because I don’t want to see any of you,” I cut her off and started to close the door.

“Wendy!”

She shoved her hand into the doorframe to stop me.

“Mom and Dad are worried about you. Why don’t you come home for a couple of days? The hurricane’s coming, and it’s dangerous to stay here alone.”

I stared at her sly expression and couldn’t help but laugh.

Worried about me? Hardly. She clearly wanted me back to act as the family’s unpaid labor force.

Feigning hesitation, I said, “Well… okay. But I twisted my ankle, so I might need you to take care of me.”

Her face changed instantly.

“What? You’re hurt?”

I nodded pitifully. “Yeah, the doctor said I shouldn’t do anything strenuous for three months. I’m supposed to stay in bed and rest.”

“Well… maybe you should just stay here and focus on recovering. I’ll check on you another time.”

And with that, Emily hurried off without looking back.