Chapter 3

That year, he raised the knife against himself again.

I threw myself in without a second thought and stopped him.

The blade slipped.

It sliced clean through my tendons.

I would never hold a brush again.

I still remember the day I woke up, Mortimer slumped in the chair beside me.

Never mind the pain, I pulled him into my arms and comforted him.

"It's fine. Worst case, I just don't paint anymore."

He forced out a smile uglier than crying.

The next second his breathing went ragged, and Felicity carried him away again.

Every night after that, I lay staring at the bandages on my wrist, hollowed out.

How could I not have grieved?

A flicker of guilt crossed Mortimer's face. He stiffened his neck and said nothing.

I had no interest in fighting with them anymore. I turned to leave.

"Patricia, I'm sorry."

Felicity gripped my wrist, her eyes red as a rabbit's, apologizing over and over.

"It was my fault. I never should have taken your painting, never should have taken Mortimer from you. I'm willing to give them both back to you.

"All of it is my fault. I should have listened to Mortimer from the start and stayed put like a good girl. Once the accident was over, once Mortimer's fake death was done, it all would have ended.

"I'm sorry. If I hadn't run off, Mortimer wouldn't have gotten hurt saving me, and none of this would have happened."

The sun on my skin should have been warm.

Instead it felt like a bucket of cold water dumped over me from head to foot.

That day, I'd received a photo of Mortimer and Felicity together, close. I rushed off to find them and caught them exactly as they walked arm in arm into a hotel.

I fell apart and ran into the road.

When I came to, what I saw was Mortimer lying in a pool of blood.

Everyone said Mortimer was the one who saved my life.

That small resentment I'd carried toward him turned into thick, choking guilt.

I began to blame myself.

Blame myself for being so reckless.

Hate myself for making so much of it. Wouldn't it have been better to just pretend I hadn't seen?

But only today did I finally understand.

That the whole accident, from start to finish, had been a lie.

The man I thought had saved my life was the one who'd pushed me into hell.

Mortimer's expression shifted slightly.

"Felicity, go home first."

"No! I'm the one who should die! I never should have shown up in front of you again!"

Felicity broke down completely, her face streaming with tears.

Her grip tightened and tightened until her nails dug into my skin.

I wrenched myself free with everything I had.

Off balance, Felicity fell to the floor.

There was a pool of blood on the floorboards.

Her voice shook.

"Mortimer… the baby… our baby…"

My mind went white with a roar.

I watched everyone rush to her side, fussing over how badly she was hurt.

Mortimer scooped her up and bolted out the door.

Alison and my sister ran right after them.

Once again, I was the one left standing there.

The television murmured on in the empty room.

I stood where I was and looked around.

This was the marital home Mortimer and I had decorated together three years ago.

I'd been so happy back then.

Then I walked in on Mortimer and Felicity.

Mortimer started faking his illness.

And this home, with no elevator and too inconvenient for a "blind" man, was forgotten entirely.

Which was how it became their old haunt.

I went straight home and picked up my things.

I opened the door and found Mortimer standing there.

"Where are you going?"

He caught my wrist.

I lifted my eyes to him.

"None of your business."

He sighed and rubbed his temple, a little helpless.

"Patricia, do you really have to take it this far?

"You could just pretend you don't know anything. What's so wrong with keeping things the way they were?"

Everything was wrong with it.

I couldn't spend the rest of my life living inside a lie.

"Mortimer, why did you lie to me?"

The room went quiet for a long time.

Long enough that I thought he wasn't going to answer, and I turned to go.

Then he spoke, his tone light.

"Patricia, you love money too much.

"Your sister was right. You're vain. If I had no money, you'd stop loving me. So I faked the blindness, faked losing control. And look, you didn't even last two years."

Hearing that, I felt the cold crawl up from my feet to my head, until it went all the way through me.

Our parents died young, and my sister was frail.

I was the one who held our little family of two together, alone.

I never let a single chance to earn money slip by.

Even bottles off the street, I'd pick them up and sell them.

That was how I got through high school.

I didn't care if people called me vain.

I had to keep my sister and myself alive first, and then living well.

But how could a girl in her teens not notice the contempt landing on her?

That was when Mortimer appeared.

He put himself between me and them, standing in front of everyone and saying the words I hadn't dared to say.

"She didn't steal, she didn't rob anybody. What business is it of yours!"

He cursed them off, then turned back and grinned.

"Come on, yell right back at them. You didn't do anything wrong."

My throat went tight.

Mortimer gave a shrug, like a concession.

"I'll marry Felicity, but I'll have the wedding with you. How's that?"

I didn't answer.

He frowned and started to speak again, but I cut him off.

"Fine."