After I Walked Away and Found My Real Home, They Finally Regretted It Chapter 03

After I Walked Away and Found My Real Home, They Finally Regretted It Chapter 03

Julian stared at me in disbelief.

I shook my head, just about to speak, when a nurse came running from the hallway, panic written all over her face.

“Dr. Sinclair, something’s wrong!”

“Your sister’s awake. Her depression just relapsed. She’s trying to jump!”

Amelia was always terrifyingly precise about when her depression chose to flare up.

When my practice exam scores put me in the spotlight, her depression worsened.

When I had a 104-degree fever and barely managed to call home, her depression flared again.

This time, I wasn’t surprised at all.

Inside the hospital room, she sat by the open window, a fruit knife clenched in her hand.

“Mom, Dad, Julian, Leo… I’m so scared,” she sobbed. “I dreamed they beat me again.”

“They said they were going to sell me to some hunchback in the village.”

“Why didn’t you find me sooner?”

Tears streamed down her face.

Amelia’s fragile, despairing cries softened everyone in the room.

Richard Sinclair, hardened by decades in business, had reddened eyes as he coaxed her gently.

“Amelia, put the knife down. Come to Dad.”

“You’re home now. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

Margaret Sinclair was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

“Amelia, you’re Mommy’s precious baby.”

“I’m begging you, sweetheart. Come down.”

Amelia murmured to herself, the blade sliding toward her wrist.

“But Vivian hates me. She said I don’t deserve to be your daughter.”

“That I don’t belong in this family.”

“Then I might as well die!”

She cried loudly, her tear-filled eyes locking onto me.

“Vivian Sinclair, did you really say that to Amelia?!”

“Who gave you the nerve?!”

A sharp slap landed across my face.

Leo grabbed my hair and dragged me in front of Amelia.

“Amelia, don’t believe a word she says.”

“You’re the real Sinclair daughter. She’s just a fake.”

“Yes!” Margaret sobbed, nodding frantically. “Vivian isn’t our daughter. Amelia, you are.”

The tears in Amelia’s eyes finally stopped.

She lowered the knife and climbed down from the window.

“Good girl,” Julian said softly. “Give the knife to me. Don’t hurt yourself.”

He reached out to take it from her hand.

Suddenly, Amelia screamed. The blade slashed toward me.

The cold steel cut from my forehead down to the corner of my mouth.

The searing pain dragged me straight back to my sophomore year, when I’d accidentally sliced my finger while cooking.

My mother had rushed home, eyes full of worry, murmuring over and over, “It’s okay, baby. It doesn’t hurt.”

Her voice still seemed to echo in my ears.

I clutched my face and collapsed to the floor.

“I—I didn’t mean to!” Amelia cried. “I’m sorry, Vivian. I couldn’t control myself…”

She sobbed weakly, then fainted.

The room erupted into chaos. Everyone rushed out carrying her.

I lay on the cold floor, my wound burning.

“Mom…”

The word slipped out unconsciously as tears spilled from my eyes.

The salty tears ran over the open cut, doubling the pain.

I couldn’t stop crying.

When I first came to this world, I had been a baby.

I’d been careful and cautious, focused only on completing my task and saving my mother.

Then, slowly, the Sinclair family had started treating me better.

I’d given them my heart, secretly happy, believing I’d gained two families.

Reality taught me otherwise. Love came in many kinds.

After a few minutes, I forced down the grief, covered my face, and sat up.