Faked Death for Freedom

In the days that followed, Eithan was nowhere to be seen. I could only assume he was by Lara's side. Here, by my hospital bed, I was alone, accompanied only by the monotonous ticking of the machines.

I glanced at the little girl in the next bed. Her family was always bustling around, bringing her water, tucking her in, and whispering comforting words. Slowly, memories resurfaced. Back when I was the cherished daughter of the O'Brien family, even the slightest cold would send my mother, Louisa, into a frenzy. Eithan would drop everything to stay by my side 24/7.

They would always fuss over me, scolding me gently for not taking care of myself, but their hands never stopped moving. The water in my cup was always warm, and my blankets were carefully tucked to keep me cozy. Back then, I was enveloped in love, convinced the world revolved around me. I thought that kind of love would last forever.

Then Lara came into the picture.

Overnight, I became the "kidnapper's daughter" that everyone despised, while Lara was the real O'Brien heiress. All the love and attention shifted to her without hesitation. Suddenly, I was the most unnecessary person in the O'Brien family—unable to fit in, unable to escape.

Feeling dejected, I looked away and booked a flight to leave the country in three days. Lara and I were discharged on the same day, but no one remembered my discharge. Eithan carefully helped Lara into the car. The door closed, the engine roared, and the car quickly disappeared from the hospital entrance.

Lagging behind, I stood at the hospital entrance, discharge papers clenched in my hand, watching the car fade away. The thought of returning to that house, which no longer felt like mine, repelled me. I reassured myself—I’d be leaving soon. Just endure a bit longer.

Returning to the O'Brien house, I had barely stepped inside when Lara suddenly rose from the couch. A perfectly timed guilty look crossed her face. "Sister, it's all my fault. I forgot you were being discharged today too. Please don't be mad at me, okay?"

During Lara's hospital stay, the O'Brien family had taken turns caring for her with unwavering dedication. Now discharged, she looked healthy, showing no signs of illness. I, standing at the entrance, caught my reflection in the mirror. The person staring back was a shadow of my former radiant self—puffy eyes, dark circles under my eyes, and red-rimmed eyes revealing my exhaustion. I'd become unrecognizably thin in just a few days.

Lara wouldn't let it go when I remained silent. She quickly assumed a look of helplessness and distress. "Sister, you still can't forgive me, can you? I never meant to take our parents and brother away from you… It's just that I'm scared I might be gone suddenly. I just want to spend more time with them..."

Her voice trailed off into near sobs, each word piercing the O'Brien family's hearts like daggers. Louisa's eyes instantly reddened as she shielded Lara behind her, shouting at me, "Amiyah, why can't you accept Lara even now? She suffered out there for over ten years, endured every hardship, while you, in her place, lived in luxury! If you hadn't run around with some man and gotten pregnant—blame the poor fate of that child for not surviving!"

"If it weren't for your compatible blood, the O'Briens wouldn't keep you. Remember, without this family, you're nothing!"

I often thought it was a pity Lara never pursued acting. Her talent for playing the victim only grew. Even when I hadn’t said or done anything, I was already accused, and the O'Brien family always took her side.

At such times, Louisa would remind me again. I was no longer the cherished O'Brien daughter, just a "walking blood bank," my only purpose to donate blood for Lara whenever needed. My life was forever bound to her whims.