Chapter 2

2: 2

I looked down at her, my eyes moving over that pretty face and the hint of skin at her chest, and the corner of my mouth twitched.

"Are you really apologizing?"

It sounded like an apology, but every word pushed the blame onto me.

As if the whole thing came down to me being too fragile, too strange.

Before our parents died, they told me the same thing over and over.

"An older sister is like a mother, Ivy. You have to be good to Peggy."

So I dropped out of school early.

Every dollar I earned went first to keeping her in school.

Pretty little dresses, the newest phone, whatever she wanted, I did my best to give her.

I thought a true heart would earn a true heart back.

But she didn't have one.

Just because my face showed nothing.

She called me a fake, a person with no soul.

She even followed me, filmed me in secret, posted me online for strangers to laugh at.

Let them mock me, guess at me, treat me like their afternoon entertainment.

The memories surfaced one after another, and something cold spread through me.

"Ivy, don't be angry. I brought you a present."

Peggy's sweet little voice pulled me back to the moment.

She held out a Hello Kitty plush, smiling.

"You know how hard Piers and I worked for this? We nearly talked ourselves hoarse to win it back for you. See? I'm good to you, aren't I?"

I stared at the toy, shaking with anger.

I'd heard the mall ran a couples' kissing contest yesterday, and the winners took home this plush.

I never imagined the two of them had been the champions.

"That toy's filthy. I don't want it."

Teeth clenched, I knocked her hand away, hard.

Her pretty face went pale, mist rising in her big eyes, and she looked to Piers for help.

"Piers, did I do something wrong again..."

He pulled her into his arms and soothed her gently.

"It's not your fault. Her heart's the dirty one. Everything looks filthy to her."

Then he turned to me, out of patience.

"Ivy, what's your problem? We did all this just to make you happy."

A nameless anger rose in me, burning through everything inside until it hurt.

On dates he took me to the French place I liked, then ordered the dishes Peggy liked.

The couple's outfit he bought me was a size too small, and in the end Peggy wore it.

I shook my head.

I had no heart left to argue with them.

If the two of them had been carrying on behind my back all along, then fine, let them have each other.

I pulled the blanket back over me.

And messaged my friend abroad.

"You were right. I should go abroad for treatment."

"Not just the disorder. This broken heart too..."

There was a top physician overseas who specialized in emotional-expression disorders.

I planned to leave in three days for treatment, and never come back.

That afternoon.

Peggy and Piers brought the fruit I liked.

I pressed the screen dark.

I meant to sleep properly.

But Piers cut it short.

He yanked the blanket off me and laid into me without mercy.

"Ivy, you really are no fun. Even when you're angry, your face is still dead as a corpse."

"Being with you is exhausting."

He rubbed the space between his brows.

Looking at me, worn out.

But I didn't want to be this way either.

I dragged out the ugliest smile.

"If it's exhausting, then let go."

His lips parted, like he was about to agree.

Then a doctor cut in out of nowhere.

Holding my report, the doctor spoke with weight.

"The patient is confirmed with an emotional-expression disorder. It's very hard for her to show what she feels. You should care for her more, help her out of this dark place..."