Chapter 3

3

Because it was so sudden, he had no defense. He went flying backward, hitting the wall and sliding down in a heap.

He tried to scramble up, but he was too dazed.

I ignored his look of pure disbelief and helped Gabe to his feet, moving quickly toward the exit.

"Josie, take your cousin out first! Your brother can wait; he's not going to die. Come back and carry Wayne!"

Realizing he needed my help, he used the kindest tone he'd ever used with me.

"Wayne is a grown man; I can't carry him. Why don't you handle that, Dad? It'll really make you look good in front of Aunt Brenda!"

I smiled at him and walked away without a second glance.

Before I left, I kicked a heavy chair over, pinning Wayne's leg beneath it.

They wouldn't die, but whether they'd stay whole was a different story.

"Where's your father? Where's Wayne? Why are you the only ones out?" My mother's relief turned to panic when she saw we were alone.

"No idea," I said coldly.

The fire trucks and ambulances arrived soon after. My father and Wayne were carried out looking half-dead.

Wayne was unconscious, but my father was awake. He tried to point at me, his finger trembling, but he couldn't make a sound.

I suppressed a grin and stepped toward his stretcher. I grabbed his badly burned hand and squeezed hard.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll make sure Aunt Brenda knows all about your heroic sacrifice for Wayne."

"I'll make sure the whole family knows."

His eyes filled with agony, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine terror.

He looked at me with pleading eyes.

But this wasn't enough. In my original plan, the fire was supposed to have a much worse ending for them.

Unfortunately, they were tougher than I thought.

Gabe was mostly fine. We got him out in time, and he was only unconscious from the smoke.

He had some bruises on his chest, but he was alive and whole. We had avoided the tragedy of the last life.

The other two weren't so lucky.

Because my father stayed in the smoke too long, his internal organs suffered permanent damage. His left leg was so badly burned and mangled that he would always walk with a limp.

Wayne was even worse. His legs were ruined, and just like in the last life, his vision was failing.

While I was feeding Gabe some soup, a crowd of people burst into the hospital room.

They rushed to the beds, wailing as if my father and Wayne were already in coffins.

These were my wonderful, toxic relatives.

"My poor Wayne! What did you do to deserve this? You just went to your uncle's house and ended up like this!"

"How are you going to live? What am I supposed to do?"

A woman with a heavily made-up face sobbed at Wayne's bedside. That was Aunt Brenda.

My father sat up the moment he heard her voice, looking at her like a loyal dog. "It's my fault. I failed Wayne. I'm so sorry."

"What good is an apology now? Wayne is crippled and he can't see! How is he supposed to get married or find a job?"

Aunt Brenda shoved my father back onto the bed with zero mercy.

"There's a way! There's a way! Gabe can donate his eyes to Wayne. Then Wayne will be able to see again!"

My father turned his gaze toward us. "Gabe, I've taken care of you for so long. It's time to pay me back. You're healthy. Look at your cousin! Don't be selfish. Give him your eyes."

Every eye in the room turned to us. I felt Gabe's hand shaking with fury.

I stepped in front of my brother, shielding him. "Dad, when you were saving Wayne, didn't you say you'd take full responsibility for him? Besides, Gabe has terrible eyesight. Giving his eyes to Wayne would just be a waste."