Chapter 4

When it was time for bed, I discovered Chloe had moved into my bedroom.

Mom's expression was defensive. "You've been in the hospital for three years. Leaving the room empty was a waste, so we let Chloe have it."

"Besides, you're leaving for the trial tomorrow anyway. Just make do in the storage room under the stairs for tonight."

The emotional thread I had kept taut all day finally snapped.

"Mom... you told me that room would always be my safe haven."

Chloe's eyes welled with tears as she panicked. "Summer, don't blame Auntie!"

"She just felt bad that I was constantly running back and forth to take care of them, so she insisted I stay here."

"If you don't want me here, I can pack up and leave right now."

Though words of leaving poured from her mouth, her feet didn't budge an inch. Instead, her hand clung tightly to Carter's sleeve.

Looking fragile and helpless, she seemed far more like a dying patient than I did.

Carter pulled her protectively into his arms, completely ignoring the fact that I was standing right there.

Mom glared at me furiously. "Do you really have to tear this entire family apart before you're satisfied?"

Tear the family apart?

So fighting for what was rightfully mine was now considered destroying the family?

I closed my eyes, dragging my heavy body toward the closet-like room under the stairs.

The moment I pushed the door open, a thick wave of dust hit me. I couldn't stop the cough that tore through me, ripping agonizingly at my chest wound until all the color drained from my face.

The tiny space was crammed with all my discarded belongings.

The academic certificates and awards my parents used to frame with pride were now tossed carelessly into broken cardboard boxes.

Just like me.

A throbbing ache pulsed in my skull, the familiar aftershock of aggressive treatments.

In the past, Carter would sit by my bed for hours massaging my temples after every session.

Now, I could only curl up alone and endure it.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, Carter was sitting by my cot, just like old times.

He held a bowl of hot oatmeal, blowing on it gently as he stirred.

Seeing me awake, he carefully helped me sit up, offering a spoonful of cooled porridge to my lips.

His movements were so practiced, so tender, it felt as though nothing had ever changed.

"Eat up. After breakfast, I'll change your bandages and drive you to the airport."

My eyelashes fluttered, and I whispered, "No need."

Carter let out a soft sigh. "Summer, I'm your future husband. This is my job."

I didn't argue further. Lowering my head, a dark, morbid curiosity stirred within me, wondering how he would react when he saw the raw reality of my body.

Sure enough, the second the gauze peeled away, I caught the unmistakable flash of revulsion and disgust in his eyes.

I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back the burning tears.

"Carter, does it disgust you that your wife isn't whole?"

He jerked his head away, his voice stiff. "Don't talk nonsense."

He didn't deny it.

Carter sped up his hands, completely oblivious to how pale my face had turned from the sheer agony.

The second the dressing was taped down, he bolted straight into the bathroom.

When he came back out, the skin on his palms was scrubbed raw and red.

"Let's go. I'll take you to the airport."

I glanced around the quiet house. "Where are Mom and Dad? Aren't they coming to see me off?"

Carter walked toward the front door, answering casually, "They took Chloe to the movies."

"Besides, it's just an airport drop-off. You don't need an entourage."

After a few seconds of silence, I walked out the door.

The car sped down the highway under a brooding, overcast sky that mirrored my mood.

"Call us if anything happens over there. Don't carry everything on your own," Carter droned on with empty advice.

"And don't be mad at your parents. They've had a miserable few years because of your illness."

I pressed my lips together. After a long pause, I finally spoke.

"Carter, we're don—"

My words were cut off by the shrill ring of his phone.

"Carter! Chloe twisted her ankle, she's crying! Come back right now!" Mom's voice wailed through the speaker.

After barking a few reassurances, Carter hung up and swerved violently toward the nearest exit.

"Carter, I'm going to miss my flight!" I cried out. "If I miss this trial, I could die!"

He glared at me, his tone dripping with blame. "Summer! Can you stop being so damn selfish?"

"Chloe has been busting her back taking care of your parents! You don't have an ounce of gratitude! Now that she's hurt, all you can think about is yourself!"

I stared back at him coldly. "So what? She has an ankle sprain, she needs an ER doctor! What are you going to do, magically heal her by showing up?"

He slammed on the brakes.

The tires shrieked as the car skidded to a halt on the highway shoulder.

The next second, Carter marched around to the passenger side, yanked open my door, and dragged me roughly out into the freezing wind.

"Get out!"

"Stand here and think about what you've done. When you realize how wrong you are, I'll come back and take you home."

I stood on the gravel shoulder, watching his taillights vanish into the gray horizon. A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

Home?

That was never my home. And I was never going back.

Pulling out my phone, I dialed Dr. Miller's direct line.

"Dr. Miller... I agree to the closed-door clinical trial program."