“Oh, my darling Emily, come in, come in!” Margaret cooed, pulling her inside.
Emily’s eyes met mine, a flicker of smugness and provocation glinting within them.
She walked over, feigning surprise as she covered her mouth.
“Oh my, Rachel, you look so pale. Are you sick?”
I was too weak to play along with her act.
Just then, Jason walked in from outside.
The moment he saw Emily, his cold face softened instantly.
“It’s freezing out. Why are you dressed so lightly?” he said, slipping off his suit jacket and draping it over her shoulders.
The sight pierced my eyes like a blade.
At the dinner table, Margaret kept piling food onto Emily’s plate, showering her with praise.
“Emily, you’re too kind. If you hadn’t stepped aside back then, it would be you sitting beside Jason now instead of her.”
Emily lowered her head shyly.
“Auntie, don’t say that. It’s all in the past.”
As she spoke, she “accidentally” spilled a bowl of scalding soup across my hand.
“Ah!”
I cried out in pain. The number “3” on my wrist seared as if burned, the agony wracking my whole body.
Everyone froze.
Jason’s first reaction wasn’t to check on me, but to rush to Emily’s side.
“Are you hurt?”
Emily’s eyes watered as she shook her head.