Chapter 2

Juliana Salazar POV:

The hospital corridor felt endless, each step a testament to the pain I was fighting. I forced myself to walk, to appear normal. Getting home was a victory, but it felt hollow. The front door opened into a house that used to be my sanctuary, now a stage for their deception.

Elwin, my brother, was sprawled on the living room rug, engrossed in a video game. Debbra sat beside him, patiently watching, her hand occasionally ruffling his hair. He looked up when I entered, his eyes meeting mine for a fleeting second. Then, he flinched, pulling back. He didn't say hello. Instead, he scooted closer to Debbra, almost hiding behind her.

It was a painful echo, because Debbra used to care for me just like that.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, then forced a smile. My mouth felt dry, cracked. "Hi, Elwin. Hi, Debbra." My voice sounded normal, annoyingly so.

Debbra turned, her face a mask of sweet concern. "Juliana! You're home! How are you feeling, sweetie?" She wore the silk robe I' d bought for her birthday, the one I' d admired for months before finally splurging on it for her. It looked better on her, softer, more flowing. It always did.

She moved, not to hug me, but to stand, gracefully, in front of the fireplace. My spot. The place I always stood when I came home, to warm myself, to feel grounded. She occupied it now, completely.

"I'm... better," I lied, my smile fixed. I held a thick envelope in my hand. "Actually, Debbra, I have something for you."

She tilted her head, her expression one of innocent curiosity. "For me? Juliana, you shouldn't have. You always spoil me." Her eyes, however, gleamed with an avarice I was beginning to recognize.

I walked over, my movements stiff, and handed her the envelope. It contained the deed to the Salazar family home, the house our parents built, the one I had saved from foreclosure after their death. The house where Elwin and I grew up. The house where I grew up.

She took it, her fingers trembling slightly. She opened it, scanning the document. Her eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. "Juliana... this is... the house. Our house. Are you serious?" Her voice was a shocked whisper.

"It's just a house, Debbra," I said, my smile unwavering, even as my heart felt like it was crumbling into dust. "A gift. A special gift for a special friend. After all, you' ve done so much for Elwin, for us. It' s the least I can do."

For a split second, her composure faltered. A flicker of something dark-triumph mixed with confusion-crossed her face. Then, she quickly regained her innocent facade, her eyes welling up with tears. "Juliana, I... I don't know what to say. This is too much. You know how much this house means to you."

"It means nothing to me now," I thought, the words cold and clear in my mind. My future was measured in weeks. What was a house to a dying woman?

I leaned in, my voice dropping to a low whisper, just for her. "I know everything, Debbra. Everything you and Dalton have been doing." Her eyes flickered, but she held my gaze, her acting impeccable. "But don't worry. I bless your union. I bless your future. Just keep Elwin happy. That's all I ask."

Just then, Dalton walked in, fresh from a shower, his hair still damp. He froze, seeing us so close, my head near Debbra's ear. "What's going on here?" he demanded, a nervous edge to his voice.

Debbra burst into tears, dramatically clutching the deed to her chest. "Oh, Dalton! Juliana is so good to me! She's given me the house! Our house!" She sobbed into his shoulder, her voice muffled but loud enough to carry. "She's so kind, so selfless!"

Dalton looked from her to me, his expression unreadable. A mix of shock, relief, and a hint of accusation. He opened his mouth, but I cut him off.

"I'm tired," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I need to rest." I turned to Elwin, who was still glued to his game, barely acknowledging my presence. "Elwin, listen to Debbra, okay? She knows what's best for you."

He mumbled a noncommittal "Okay," his eyes never leaving the screen. Then, without looking at me, he turned to Debbra. "Debbra, can we get that new game you promised?"

Debbra smiled, a triumphant, almost imperceptible curve of her lips. "Of course, sweetie. Anything for you." She kissed the top of his head.

And then I heard it. A small, innocent voice, my brother' s voice, clear as a bell. "Thanks, Mom."

My breath hitched. The world tilted. I stumbled, gripping the hallway wall to steady myself. The physical pain was a dull throb compared to the gaping wound in my soul. My brother, the boy I raised, the reason I fought so hard, had called another woman "Mom."

I locked myself in my bedroom, the last bastion of my privacy. The tears came then, hot and stinging, blurring my vision. I crumpled to the floor, my body wracked with sobs. The cancer, usually a silent, insidious killer, roared to life, its tendrils twisting through my bones, a white-hot agony. The painkillers, momentarily forgotten, couldn't touch this kind of pain.

I was dying. And they had already replaced me.

My gaze fell on my closet, filled with designer clothes, meticulously organized. Expensive shoes, glittering jewelry. Everything I had worked for, everything I owned. Soon, it would all be hers. Debbra's. She would wear my clothes, walk in my shoes, sleep in my bed. She would live my life.

I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror. Gaunt, pale, eyes hollow. A ghost already. "Three weeks," I whispered to the stranger staring back at me. "Three weeks to finish what you started."

I wouldn't let them win completely. They would have the wealth, the power, the family. But I would ensure they would be forever haunted. Tonight was just the beginning. The revelation of their deceit, meticulously planned, would be my final, devastating gift. They would regret every single moment of this. I just wouldn't be alive to see it. But the world would.