Twice, Luna They Left Behind Chapter 07

Twice, Luna They Left Behind Chapter 07

“I… I just ran down by myself, okay?”

Leo’s eyes darted away. He wouldn’t look at Mom.

“You’re lying.”

Dad strode over and yanked the console’s power cord from the wall.

The screen went black.

“Dad! What the hell! I was about to win a ranked match!”

Leo shot to his feet, shouting.

“I asked you what really happened that night!”

Dad’s eyes were bloodshot. He pointed a shaking finger at Leo.

“The fire department incident report arrived yesterday. I never actually read it carefully.”

He spun around, stormed into the study, and came back with a document, slamming it down on the coffee table.

“The report is crystal clear. The fire started in the kitchen. You were right there in the living room watching TV. You had plenty of time to run outside!”

“You ran upstairs. Hid in that closet. Didn’t make a sound. Didn’t call for help. You locked yourself in and left her out there to burn!”

Leo’s face went white.

He stumbled back two steps and thrust his chin out.

—

“So what? I was scared, alright! I’m the victim!”

“You were scared?” Mom sank onto the sofa, shaking head to toe.
“You were scared, so your sister ran into the fire to find you?”

“You were scared—so you told us she pushed you? You let us believe she tried to leave you in there?”

“You were scared—so you faked every breakdown? You let us abandon her, over and over, and you just watched?”

She shot to her feet and slapped Leo across the face.

The crack echoed through the living room.

Leo clutched his cheek and stared at her in disbelief.

“You hit me? You actually hit me over that bitch?”

“She deserved it! She was always better than me, always scoring first! All you ever saw were her grades!”

“I wanted her to know that no matter how hard she worked, in this house, I was the one who mattered!”

He was shrieking now, his mask of decency ripped to shreds.

Mom stared at this selfish, twisted, venomous creature.

This was the son she’d poured everything into. The one she’d sacrificed her daughter for.

Dad didn’t say a word.

He walked silently to the guest room, knelt down, and pulled open the nightstand drawer.

—

Inside was a worn, battered ledger.

He opened it.

Every page listed years of household income and expenses.

[Jan. 15: Leo limited-edition sneakers—$800. Lydia living expenses—minimal transfer.]

[Mar. 12: Leo private mecha-model coaching—$2,000. Lydia Physics Olympiad registration fee—self-funded through part-time work.]

[May 20: Leo birthday party—$1,500. Lydia birthday—none.]

…

He kept flipping all the way to the last entry.

[July 8: Fire.]

[July 15: Lydia debridement—out of pocket. Leo trauma session—$600.]

The handwriting there had turned jagged and uneven.

Because by then, my right hand was already burned.

Dad’s hands started shaking violently.

It hit him—the day of my follow-up, he hadn’t even asked a single extra question before hauling Leo off to the Maldives.

He drove straight to Blackthorn City Hospital’s burn unit.

Doctor Quinn took one look at him and let out a cold laugh.

—

“Finally remembered you have a daughter?”

“Do you have any idea the flesh on the back of her hand was practically rotting? She clamped her jaw shut through the whole debridement and didn’t make a sound.”

“Her left hand shakes so badly she can barely write, and she was still asking me how to make sure she could still hold a pen.”

“You two aren’t fit to call yourselves parents.”