He didn't wait for an answer.
After a night of torment, he dressed me like a doll and dumped me at the psychiatric hospital.
The guard frowned as I approached. "Harper, you look terrible. You can't keep working yourself to death."
I nodded and walked to Hudson's ward.
My brother was pacing in striped pajamas. Calm—until he saw my reflection in the window. The "madness" took over instantly.
He lunged, fingers digging into my arms, pinching and biting.
"Jinx! Curse! Get out!" he screamed.
I stood there and took it.
Minutes later, the storm passed. He collapsed, weeping, clutching my hands.
"Harper... I'm so sorry," he sobbed. "Don't bother with me anymore. I'm just a burden. Leave me to die."
I watched him, heart aching. I didn't see the performance. The manipulation. Only my broken brother.
"Don't apologize, Hudson," I said softly. "I've saved enough. You can get treatment now. Soon Eliana will come back. We'll be a family again."
He reached for the bank card I offered. His fingers brushed the raw wound on the back of my hand—a souvenir from last night—and froze.
"Harper," he whispered. "Your hand..."