They Wanted Me to Chaperone My Sister Abroad, So I Vanished Chapter 04

They Wanted Me to Chaperone My Sister Abroad, So I Vanished Chapter 04

I woke up on a cot inside the park’s first-aid station. The room was empty besides a nurse who hurried over the second she spotted my eyes fluttering open.

“Thank goodness you’re awake! You gave all of us quite a scare.”

“The doctor said it was just extreme overstimulation triggering a faint—you’ll bounce back after a little rest.”

“Nothing serious, don’t worry. Skip the intense rides next time, okay?”

Her gentle voice cracked something open in my chest; tears spilled before I could stop them.

Growing up, every time Linda caught even a mild cold, the entire Miller household descended into chaos.

Frail and fragile from infancy, everyone lived in constant fear a small sickness might endanger her life. They surrounded her with gifts, warm soup, round-the-clock care, treating her like royalty.

Whenever I fell ill, I got tossed into the neighborhood clinic for generic over-the-counter pills, and that was the end of it.

“You’ve always had rock-solid health,” my parents would dismiss me. “The doctor said you wailed loud as a newborn—nothing like Linda stuck in the NICU for weeks.”

Sometimes I’d lie awake crying, wishing I could catch a terrible illness too, just to get a fraction of the attention Linda received.

One brutal winter, I stripped off my winter coat and stood outside in the snow for three full hours until my face went numb with frostbite.

I stumbled back inside burning with a raging fever, certain their panic meant they loved me after all.

When I woke up hours later, I’d been locked alone in my tiny bedroom.

The journal I’d filled with quiet, lonely teenage heartache was gone, seized by my parents. Their sharp yelling seeped through the thin wall separating our rooms.

“Bella Miller, you’ve gone too far this time!”

“How could you be so cruel? You faked a fever just to compete with Linda for our attention—we never knew you were this manipulative!”

“Linda’s poor health isn’t some game for you to envy! Do you think being sick is fun for her?!”

“If you’re that desperate to swap places with her, would you trade lives with her sickness, even die for it?!”

No amount of begging or explaining softened their anger. They kept me locked in isolation for three straight days, only sliding water, meals, and fever medicine under the door.

After that, I never wrote in a journal again. I retreated further into silence, labeled the cold, withdrawn second daughter who “couldn’t be warmed up by anyone’s kindness.”

The nurse noticed my hunched shoulders and the tear-soaked white sheet under me when she bent down to check my pulse.

“Don’t cry, honey—doctor said you’re fine. You poor thing, that ride shook you up bad.”

She pulled me into a gentle hug. That sharp antiseptic smell was kinder than any perfume I’d ever known.

I sobbed into her shoulder, hating myself deep down.

Pathetic, Bella. Nineteen years starved for love, and one kind word from a stranger unravels you.

It took me a while to calm my tears. I wiped my damp cheeks, voice rough and hoarse with embarrassment. “Excuse me… do you know where the people I came with went?”

The nurse hesitated, shifting her weight awkwardly. “Oh, them…”

“They… weren’t sure when you’d wake up,” she said gently. “Didn’t want to lose the whole day.”

Her weak excuse was paper-thin, just like Marcus and Owen’s hollow attempts to pretend they cared about me. One push, and the fake concern shattered completely.

I pulled a smile that hurt more than crying. I was an idiot for thinking I’d ever take priority over Linda.

This whole trip had been Linda’s dream amusement park day—of course they wouldn’t pause their fun for an irrelevant sister who’d passed out.

“It’s fine. I’ll head home now.”

I turned to walk out of the first-aid station when hurried footsteps echoed behind me.

The nurse jogged to catch up, pressing a silly cartoon sticker firmly onto the back of my hand.

“A badge for being brave.”

After she left, I stared at that cheap little sticker for ages, my eyes stinging all over again.

I was nineteen, legally an adult.

But buried deep inside me was a small child who’d waited her entire life for someone to call her brave, to reward her for anything at all—and never once gotten the chance.