Her heels came down hard on my hand.
I heard the sickening crack as my barely healed fingers shattered once again.
Blood seeped through the pristine white carpet.
But she didn’t even look down.
She was too busy holding Henry up, her face was full of worry.
"Henry! What happened? Where are you hurt?!"
Wyatt stormed in behind her, panic-stricken. Even though there wasn’t a single scratch on Henry, he still shouted, "Call 911! Where’s the doctor? Is there a doctor here?!"
Not one of them noticed me.
Not one of them saw my broken hand, my blood staining their perfect wedding.
Shivering in Clara's arms, with eyes red, Henry choked out, "I just wanted to comfort Brother. He seemed so upset... But I never expected—he had already arranged for these sick men to ambush me. He thought that if he had to suffer, I shouldn’t be allowed to be happy either..."
He paused dramatically, voice shaking. "Sis, Brother’s reputation is ruined, and his body is broken. I know he must feel jealous of my success. But he didn’t mean it, right? He’s just in a bad mood right now..."