Chapter 4

She was in the bathroom for a long time. When she finally came out, her eyes were red, and her hair was damp, as if she had just splashed water on her face.

"Are you okay?" I asked, feeling a spark of concern.

She shook her head, forcing a weak smile.

"Just an old issue. My stomach spasms when I get stressed..."

She was young, probably five or six years younger than me, but there was a deep exhaustion in her eyes that didn't match her age.

The light caught her arm where her sleeve was rolled up. I saw several pale, faded scars.

Noticing my gaze, she quickly pulled her sleeve down.

"From high school," she whispered, her voice flat. "Some boys cornered me in an alley on my way home. They thought I looked easy."

My breath hitched.

"My family thought it was shameful," she continued, staring at the floor. "They made me drop out for a year. When I went back, everyone whispered about me.

These scars..." She gripped her arm. "...I did them to myself. Every time I remember that day, I feel dirty. I just wanted to cut that skin off."

She suddenly shook her head, forcing another smile.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You look so happy. You've probably never had to deal with anything like this."

I looked at her, feeling a profound sense of helplessness.

Never had to deal with this?

I knew exactly what it was like. A pretty girl from a poor background has to dodge a thousand dirty hands just to grow up.

I wanted to tell her, "It wasn't your fault." But the words felt too light, too hollow.

Maybe I was just luckier than her because back then, Julian had stood in front of me and shielded me from the storm.

I shook my head, my throat dry, unable to speak.

She was the victim, and I was the survivor.

My survival felt like a sin in front of her pain.

I could only watch her cry, feeling like a useless spectator, unable to offer a single piece of comfort.

Suddenly, the front door burst open. It was Julian.

"What's going on here?" his voice was tight as he looked at Chloe's tear-stained face.

Chloe quickly wiped her eyes, handing him the file. "Dr. Sinclair, here is the paperwork..."

But Julian didn't take it.

His eyes fell on Chloe's exposed arm. His pupils contracted. He whipped around to glare at me, his gaze sharp and accusatory.

"What did you say to her, Maya?"

Before I could answer, Chloe grabbed his arm, crying again. "No, it's not her! It's me... I just saw Maya's wedding invitations, and it made me think of my past..."

She covered her face, sobbing through her fingers. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have come. My emotions got the best of me."

Julian's face darkened.

He pulled Chloe behind him, shielding her as if she were made of glass.

"Maya, why do you have to trigger her like this?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

"I didn't do anything. She came for the file, I let her in. I didn't know anything about her past. I barely said a word."

"You just stood there and said nothing?!" Julian shouted, his eyes turning red.

He looked at me with pure disappointment, as if looking at a monster.

"You listened to her story, and you just stood there, cold and indifferent, watching her cry?"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Chloe tugged at Julian's arm, sobbing. "Please, don't fight. It's not Maya's fault. She’s probably lived a perfect, happy life. It’s normal that she can't empathize with someone like me."

Julian let out a bitter, mocking laugh.

"A perfect life?" He pointed at me, his voice trembling. "I'll tell you something, Chloe. She was just like you. Before college, her life was a living hell. She was harassed constantly, and her own stepfather used to touch her!"

"She only survived because I risked my life to protect her. But I never expected this from you, Maya. You've stood in the rain yourself. How can you be so heartless to someone else?"

I looked at Julian, suddenly feeling completely empty.