I live in a novel. My sister is the tragic heroine. To save her life, my family traveled back ten years in time, determined to protect her at all costs. The price? Destroying me. My career was ruined for her. My husband was stolen by her. My child died because of her. And in the end, to save her, they handed me over to her deranged admirer, who stabbed me until I was left mutilated and broken. Later, I was tortured to death by the housekeeper. Only then did they realize their mistake. They went mad trying to find traces of my existence, driven by regret. The metallic scent of blood filled my nose. I pushed the door open and froze. My Samoyed, Coco, lay on the floor, barely breathing, blood pooling around her. My mind went blank. I turned to the man holding the knife—my father. “Dad! What are you doing?!” I screamed, my voice cracking. But he ignored me, his gaze fixed on Coco. Before I could stop him, he plunged the knife deep into her belly. Then, with a brutal motion, he dragged the blade upward, leaving her mutilated beyond recognition. I collapsed to the floor, cradling Coco as her faint whimpers filled the room. She looked up at me, her eyes full of pain, but still tried to wag her tail, as if to comfort me one last time. Then, she went still. “Not in her stomach?” my sister’s airy voice drifted over. “I thought she swallowed my ring.” My father, unfazed, tossed the knife aside and reached into Coco’s open belly, still searching. “Stop!” I screamed, my voice hoarse. “She’s just a dog! How could you do this to her?!” My sister, startled by my outburst, shrank back, tears welling in her eyes. She clung to my husband, Jason, for comfort. “I was just desperate to find my ring…” she murmured pitifully. Jason wrapped his arm around her, frowning at me. “It’s just a dog,” he said dismissively. “I’ll buy you another one.” His words stabbed at my chest. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to speak, but my father cut me off. “Enough,” he said, his tone cold and commanding, a far cry from the man who once doted on me. “Enough.” That’s all they ever said to me since they came back from ten years in the future. Since then, they’d lavished my sister with unconditional love and affection, while I was told to step aside, again and again. Jason, still holding my sister, frowned as he watched her cry. He let out a sigh and walked toward me. “Your ring,” he said, holding out his hand. I stared at him, confused and frozen. Before I could react, he slid my wedding ring off my finger. Turning back to my sister, he pressed it into her hand. “This ring might not compare to yours,” he said gently, “but at least it’s something to keep you company.” She looked up at him, her tears quickly replaced with a smile. “Jason, you’re so good to me,” she whispered. I stared at them in disbelief. I scrambled to my feet, reaching for the ring, my hands still stained with Coco’s blood. But before I could grab it, my bloodied hands brushed against my sister’s white dress, leaving crimson smears on the fabric. Jason immediately shoved me away, his eyes filled with annoyance. “Stop it,” he said. “I’ll take you to pick out a new ring tomorrow, okay?” I bit my lip until I tasted blood, my heart shattering into pieces. Still, I wouldn’t back down. I reached for the ring again, only to feel the sting of my father’s palm across my face. “You’re being ridiculous!” he snapped. The sharp pain burned on my cheek as I staggered back. And then, just like that, my father threw me and Coco out of the house. The rain poured down in torrents, washing over me and the lifeless body of my dog. I clung to her, sobbing uncontrollably. A small hand tugged at my sleeve. “Mommy?” I looked up to see my son, only six or seven years old, staring at me with wide, worried eyes. But before I could respond, my father appeared behind him. Without a word, he grabbed my son by the arm and dragged him back inside. “Your mother needs to be punished for what she’s done,” he said sternly. “You’re not going to stand out here and get sick because of her.” My son kicked and screamed, crying for me as he was pulled inside. I lunged forward, trying to reach him, but the door slammed shut in my face. The cold rain mixed with the blood on my hands, and I sank to the ground, choking on my sobs.
Both of my hands were raw and bleeding. It had taken everything I had to bury Coco, my sweet dog, in the cold, hard ground. The effort left me so drained that I collapsed. When I woke up, I was back in my bedroom. Jason was slumped over the side of the bed, asleep. Hearing me stir, he shot up, his eyes filled with concern. “Babe, you scared me to death! Are you hungry?” He reached out to touch my forehead, then bent down and kissed me gently. A small smile crept across his face. “Looks like your fever broke,” he said softly. I stayed silent, watching him as he pulled a familiar object from his pocket—a ring. Carefully, he slid it back onto my finger. “I got the ring back for you. Don’t be mad, okay? Your sister’s still unwell, and she doesn’t have much time left. Let’s be a little more understanding, for her sake.” I remained quiet. I wanted to ask him so badly: If she’s dying, does that mean I deserve to suffer? Before I could say anything, the sound of the door creaking open interrupted my thoughts. My sister walked in, carrying a bowl of steaming soup. On her finger glinted a brand-new diamond ring, the size of a pigeon egg. “Jason was going to give you this ring,” she said with a sly smile, holding up her hand to show it off. “But when he saw how much I liked it, he decided to give it to me instead.” Her voice was light, but the challenge in her tone was unmistakable. She placed the bowl in front of me. “You must be starving. Try some of the soup I made for you.” The smell made my stomach turn. I shook my head, refusing to eat. Jason, ever the peacemaker, picked up the bowl and spooned a piece of meat toward me. “Come on, eat something,” he said gently. When I kept my mouth shut, he didn’t pull the spoon away. He just sat there, waiting, until I had no choice but to take a bite. The moment it hit my tongue, something felt wrong. My sister’s voice, dripping with malice, broke the silence. “How’s Coco’s meat? Tasty?” Something in my brain snapped. I spat the food out, gagging as bile rose in my throat. My stomach churned violently as I stared at the pink chunk of meat in the bowl. My sister sighed dramatically. “Jason had to work so hard to dig her back up. It would’ve been such a waste to leave all that meat in the ground.” Her words hit me like a slap. I turned to Jason, my eyes wide with disbelief. “You… you did this?” Jason couldn’t even look at me. He hung his head in shame, then reached down and picked up a small puppy from the floor. He placed it in my lap. “This is for you,” he said quietly. “To make up for it.” The little dog barked and wagged its tail, full of life and energy. But I felt nothing but cold emptiness. I hurled the bowl of soup to the floor, the ceramic shattering into pieces. “Get out! Both of you, GET OUT!” I screamed, clutching my face as tears poured through my fingers. My wedding ring—chosen secondhand after my sister’s approval. My dog—boiled into soup after years of unconditional love. I stared at the meat on the floor, my chest tightening until it was hard to breathe. “I’m sorry, Amelia,” my sister said softly, crouching down to pick up the broken pieces of the bowl. She winced as a shard of porcelain cut her hand. Jason immediately panicked. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, sucking the blood from the cut before carefully wrapping it in a tissue. “Be careful next time,” he said gently, leading her out of the room. But before leaving, he turned back and looked at me, disappointment etched into his face. “You’re being unreasonable, Amelia. You never used to be like this.” I sat frozen, staring at the door as it closed behind them. Unreasonable? I didn’t even know how to respond anymore. The shrill ring of my phone shattered the silence. I answered it, only to be met with my manager’s furious voice. “What the hell is going on, Amelia? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve ruined your career!” I blinked, confused. “What are you talking about?” I asked weakly. “Seriously? You’re married, and you still couldn’t control yourself? You’ve completely destroyed your reputation!” I grabbed my phone and opened social media. The words trending at the top of the page made my blood run cold. #Famous Actress Amelia Harris Caught Cheating#
I clicked on the trending topic. It was a series of photos. Under dim lighting, a woman was wrapped in the arms of an overweight man. The faces were blurry, but I recognized the silhouette immediately. It was my sister. But my family, in their usual way, had already logged into my social media account. They made me take the blame. The statement they posted read: “I deeply apologize for wasting public attention. Please don’t misunderstand or blame my sister. It was my own lapse in judgment that led to my infidelity. I fully acknowledge my mistakes and regret implicating my sister in this matter. To everyone who has supported me, I’m sorry. Starting today, I will be leaving the entertainment industry as an act of self-reflection.” When I read those words, my hands trembled with rage. I tried to log back into my account to post the truth, but the password had already been changed. The door creaked open, and my mother walked in. She pulled me into a hug, her eyes red and brimming with tears. But she wasn’t here to comfort me. She was here to persuade me. “Sweetheart, your sister is at the peak of her career. If this kind of scandal gets out, her life will be ruined forever.” I stared at her blankly, the tears on my face already dried. “And what about me, Mom?” What about me? Wouldn’t this destroy me too? My mother faltered under my gaze, guilt flickering across her face. “Honey, listen to me. You have Jason. He knows the truth; he won’t turn his back on you. But your sister—she’s not married yet. Her future can’t handle this.” A wave of nausea hit me. I grabbed the black card she had given me and slammed it to the ground. “She made this mess, and she can clean it up herself. I’m not sacrificing my life for her career!” My raised voice startled her, and just as she was about to respond, the door opened again. My sister stepped in, her face streaked with tears. She cried and apologized, taking my hand and pressing it against her cheek. “Hit me, Amelia. If it’ll make you feel better, go ahead. I deserve it.” Her performance ignited something inside me. I clenched my teeth and, as she wished, slapped her hard across the face. The sharp sound of the slap echoed in the room. Before I could react, Jason stormed in and yanked me away from her. “What the hell are you doing?!” he shouted. My sister, clutching her reddened cheek, smiled at me through her tears. “Your karma is coming,” she whispered. I didn’t understand what she meant. I could only watch as my family surrounded her, comforting her as they left the room. But I understood soon enough. People started questioning the photos. Some began to doubt whether the woman in them was really me. Sensing the shift in public opinion, my family responded in the only way they knew how—by escalating. Private photos of me, meant for Jason’s eyes only, suddenly flooded the internet. The scandal exploded, overshadowing everything else. I clutched my chest, struggling to breathe. I knew then that my life was over. I sat in a daze, unable to move, when the phone rang. “Mommy…” It was my son’s voice, trembling and tearful. “Mommy, Auntie took me to Hollow Lake. I’m scared…” His words were cut off abruptly. The last thing I heard was the sound of something heavy splashing into the water. Panic consumed me as I grabbed my coat and ran out the door. By the time I arrived, it was too late. My sister stood by the lake, calm and composed, smiling as if nothing had happened. “Your son is so rude,” she said casually. “He said I was bullying you and even tried to hit me.” She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “But he’s so clumsy. He slipped and fell into the water all by himself.” She shrugged lightly. “Not that it matters. I can’t swim, you know.” Her words made my mind go blank. I shoved past the crowd and dove into the lake, frantically searching until I found him. I pulled him to the surface and carried him to the shore, but it was too late. His small body was limp, his face pale, his lips tinged with blue. He was gone. The son I had promised to protect was gone.
I knelt helplessly in front of my son’s lifeless body, clutching him in my arms as uncontrollable sobs wracked my body. The crowd around me began to murmur, their judgmental voices cutting through the air like knives. “She deserves it! A woman like her, throwing herself around—her son’s death is just karma!” Rotten vegetables and trash were hurled at me, but I couldn’t muster a single word in my defense. And then she walked over—my sister. She leaned down, her voice low and threatening. “You still want to clear your name? This is what happens. Think carefully before you act.” Her cold indifference snapped something inside of me. I lunged at her, grabbing her by the collar, screaming, “He was just a child!” My son. My sweet, smart, loving boy. Just yesterday, he was holding my hand, calling me “Mommy.” And now, he was reduced to this—cold, lifeless, gone. “Amelia! Amelia!” Jason pushed through the crowd, rushing toward me. The moment he saw our son’s body, his knees almost buckled. But he steadied himself and wrapped his arms around me. “It’s going to be okay,” he stammered, though his voice was trembling. “Just calm down. Please, calm down—” I shoved him away with all the strength I had left and slapped him across the face. The love I once felt for him was gone, replaced by a searing hatred. My parents arrived moments later, rushing past me to check on my sister. “Are you hurt?” they asked her frantically. She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “I saw someone take little Ray, so I ran after them… but I was too late.” Her words, laced with guilt, were enough for my parents. They believed her without question. They surrounded her protectively, whispering reassurances while offering me hollow condolences. But I didn’t care. Their words were meaningless to me now. Everything I cared about was gone. Holding my son’s body, I felt as though my soul had been ripped away. Suddenly, someone in the crowd screamed. “He’s got a knife!” People scattered in all directions as a heavyset man stormed toward us, a knife glinting in his hand. He was shouting my sister’s name. I recognized him immediately—the man from the tabloid photos, the one who had been holding my sister in his arms. Jason and my parents tensed up, immediately positioning themselves in front of my sister. They knew exactly who he was. In the original timeline, this man had been my sister’s obsessive admirer. His obsession had grown so twisted that he ultimately killed her. Now, as he charged toward us, they instinctively shielded her, pushing her behind them. And then, I felt it. A hand shoved me from behind, hard. Still clutching my son’s body, I stumbled forward—straight into the man’s path. His eyes, wild and full of rage, locked onto me. He didn’t even glance at my sister. “It was you,” he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re the one who told her I wasn’t good enough. You’re the one who tried to break us apart!” His grip on the knife tightened. “You filthy bitch. You should die!” In that moment, everything became clear. I wasn’t his target by chance. I was his target because of them. The knife sank into my body, cold and unrelenting. I gasped, the pain blinding, but I managed to turn my head. Jason, my parents, and my sister were already gone. They had climbed into a car and driven away, leaving me behind without a second thought. The world around me blurred as blood poured from my wound, staining everything red. The pain—oh, the pain. I clutched my son even tighter, tears streaming down my face. “It’s okay, baby,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Mommy’s coming to find you.”
I never thought I’d survive. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the blindingly white ceiling of a hospital room. “Amelia! You scared us to death! Do you even know how long you’ve been unconscious?” My mom’s warm arms wrapped around me tightly. When I didn’t respond, she wiped her tears and hesitated before speaking again, her voice trembling. “Sweetheart, I need to tell you something. Please, stay calm, okay?” I lifted my hollow eyes to meet hers. Her face was full of pain. “Your mom failed to protect you,” she said, her voice cracking. “Your lower body… you’re paralyzed now. We did everything we could to save your legs.” I couldn’t feel my legs at all. But I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even react. I felt like an empty shell, barely human. My mother grew more anxious at my lack of response. Then the door opened, and my sister walked in. She wrinkled her nose, her face twisting in disgust. “What’s that smell? It’s awful,” she said casually. Jason followed close behind her. At her words, he froze, then hurried over to me. He pulled back the blanket covering me. I had wet myself. For a split second, I caught the flash of revulsion on my mom’s face before she quickly masked it. Jason, on the other hand, looked genuinely concerned. He shooed my mom and sister out of the room and gently started cleaning me up. His frail hands cradled me as he whispered, “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I’d never see you again.” I turned my head away, refusing to look at him. My son was dead. I had no reason to keep living. Jason finished cleaning me up, murmured a few comforting words, and left the room. I drifted off into a restless sleep. I didn’t sleep for long. I woke to the sound of muffled voices coming from the bathroom nearby. It was my sister. Her breathy voice carried through the thin walls. “See? You like kissing me too. Why won’t you just admit it?” She paused, her tone turning pleading. “I don’t know how much longer I have left to live. Can’t you just grant me this one wish?” Jason’s voice followed, low and strained. “Emily, I can’t. I can’t betray Amelia… I just—” Before he could finish, she cut him off. The sound of a kiss filled the silence. I stared at the ceiling, tears slipping silently down my cheeks. I didn’t need to see what was happening. The sounds were enough. I didn’t know how much time passed before they finally emerged, one after the other. Emily’s hair was disheveled, and her neck was marked with faint red bruises. When she saw me staring, she smirked, her expression full of challenge, and wrapped her arm tightly around Jason’s. Jason pulled away from her, looking flustered, and rushed to my side. “Amelia, it’s not what you think,” he started, his voice desperate. I didn’t respond. Two months later, I was discharged from the hospital. Jason pushed my wheelchair as my mom walked behind us, chatting cheerfully. “That maniac is in prison now,” she said with relief. “Thank God for you, Amelia. Without your testimony, we wouldn’t have had the evidence to put him away. Now we can all breathe easy.” I stayed silent the entire time. When we got home, the caretaker Emily had hired greeted us at the door. In front of my family, she was the picture of warmth and kindness. But as soon as she wheeled me inside and shut the door, her expression darkened. Without hesitation, she slapped me hard across the face. “I’m warning you,” she hissed, her eyes narrowing. “If you try anything, I’ll make your life a living hell.” I stared at her, my voice calm despite the sting on my cheek. “This was Emily’s idea, wasn’t it? She told you to hurt me, to make me suffer.” The caretaker sneered, her sharp eyes glinting with malice. “You’re smarter than you look.” She disappeared for a moment and came back with a bowl of steaming porridge. Without giving me a chance to prepare, she shoved spoonful after spoonful into my mouth. The scalding liquid burned my throat, making me choke and cough violently. Tears filled my eyes as I struggled to breathe. Anger and humiliation churned in my chest, but I knew better than to fight back. If I reported her, Emily would defend her. My family would believe Emily over me, dismissing my words as hysterical outbursts. And if the caretaker stayed, her abuse would only get worse. I clutched my throat, coughing uncontrollably. Through my blurred vision, my gaze landed on the surveillance camera in the corner of the room. If my words wouldn’t be enough… Would the footage be?
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