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He stared at me, his voice low and strained. "Once you're... better... once you've gotten the help you need, you can come home. You'll still be my sister."
I glared back, fury burning through the sedative's haze.
Where are you sending me? I tried to scream the words, but only a weak, guttural sound escaped my lips.
My body was a lead weight, completely useless.
He opened the hospital room door, lifted me carefully into a wheelchair, and pushed me outside.
Parked by the curb wasn't an ambulance, but a sleek, black van. And standing around it were all of them: Scarlett, Joseph, Damian, and Grayson.
"Scarlett is an expert psychologist," Joseph said, his voice dripping with a fake, weary resignation that made my skin crawl.
"Her private clinic specializes in treating... your condition. They'll help you. You need to go. It's for the best. You have to face the consequences for what you've done."
I tried to struggle, to fight, to throw myself out of the chair, but my limbs refused to obey. I was trapped inside my own useless body.
Damian stepped forward, securing the straps across my chest and legs, pinning me to the wheelchair.
"It's for your own safety," he muttered, avoiding my eyes. "Just... focus on getting better there. No more of this... no more hurting people." He sounded almost tired, like I was a chore he had to finish.
When I tried to form a word, a protest, he adjusted the oxygen mask over my face, silencing me completely.
Grayson leaned against the van, his eyes red-rimmed. "Lily," he said, his voice cracking. "If you ever... if you ever hurt Scarlett again, I swear I won't be so forgiving."
I could only stare at them, my eyes wide with pure, undiluted hatred. I hoped they could see it.
Only Scarlett wore a smile, gentle and sweet.
"Alright, that's enough," she cooed, placing a calming hand on Grayson's arm.
"To protect the other patients from undue stress, outside visitors aren't permitted at the clinic. You've all done your part. The staff will take her from here. She'll be safe."
The van doors slid shut, plunging me into darkness. The vehicle moved, and with every mile, the dread coiled tighter in my stomach. When it finally stopped, the doors opened to reveal a grim, nondescript building.
Several large, brutish men yanked me out by my hair, dragging me across the pavement and through a heavy door.
My recently stitched wounds tore open again, blood soaking into my clothes. No one cared.
They threw me into a tiled bathroom, locking the door from the outside.
One of them turned on a high-pressure showerhead, aiming the icy blast directly at my face. I couldn't move, couldn't escape. I choked, drowning on dry land, the water soaking me to the bone.
Then, rough hands grabbed me, groping and pinching, their laughter echoing off the tiles. Just as I felt my mind beginning to truly shatter, the door opened.
Scarlett walked in, looking down at me where I lay crumpled and broken on the wet floor. A triumphant smile played on her lips.
"See, Lily? I told you you'd like it here."
Looking at her smug face, I finally found the strength to rasp a single question.
"Why?"
Why are you doing this? I never did anything to you...
She pulled up a metal chair and sat down, crossing her legs. She picked up a scalpel from a tray nearby, testing its sharpness with her thumb.
"Why?" she repeated, her voice light, almost singing. She leaned forward and dragged the scalpel lightly across my cheek.
I flinched, a sharp cry tearing from my throat. The pain was electric. She watched, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Lily, you don't even remember me, do you? That's fine. Let me enlighten you."
She pressed the blade deeper, and a line of fire bloomed across my face.
"We went to the same college. At graduation, I finally worked up the courage to confess to the guy I'd had a crush on for four years. And you know what he said? He rejected me. He said he'd always been secretly in love with you."
Her voice twisted with venom. The scalpel dug deeper, slicing a cruel gash.
"I couldn't accept it. So when I found out you were a player for this game, I paid my way in to be your rival. A poor nobody like you would never understand. A little money, and their affection metrics skyrocketed for me."
She moved the scalpel to my wrist.
With a quick, brutal motion, she severed the tendons.
Agony, white-hot and blinding, ripped through me.
I screamed, and the sound seemed to fill her with delight.
