“As long as I’m here, don’t even think of marrying her. She’s mine.”
Before I could speak, Lavinia smiled at him gently and coaxed, “Hmm, I’m yours, forever yours. Come, put on the groom’s suit.”
Only then did Cedric look satisfied. When he turned his eyes back to me, they carried open provocation.
My fists clenched so tight the sound of bones cracked. I had once told Lavinia that, since he was sick, why not send him to Greenville for treatment?
She said she couldn’t rest assured leaving Cedric alone inside. He had no family left, pitiful enough, and instead she blamed me for lacking compassion, for being petty.
Every time we quarreled, the topic always circled back to Cedric.
I was exhausted, unwilling to keep entangling with them. If she loved taking care of him, then she could take care of him forever.
But the crowd burst into laughter, pointing at us, whispering and mocking as if watching a play.
My mother couldn’t stop crying from guilt, while Cedric still refused to let her go.
Just then, a group of doctors in white coats rushed in from outside. “We heard there’s a mentally ill person here trying to kill someone?”