My Second Life Was for Revenge Against My Father

2: 2

Sure enough, just as the sky was going pale, a scream tore through the house.

Madge Fox's face had broken out in a dense rash of red welts, the whole thing swollen up like a lump of raw meat, her eyes squeezed down to slits. It was horrifying and ridiculous all at once.

"Mom! My face! What's wrong with my face!"

She was shrieking around the room like she'd lost her mind.

Selina Lawrence dragged her off to the hospital in a panic.

The dermatologist called it severe allergic dermatitis with a secondary infection, cause unknown, and said she'd need at least a month of inpatient treatment.

Madge cried and refused to go out where anyone could see her, and Selina got so frantic that a ring of fever blisters broke out at the corners of her mouth.

Mortimer Henson frowned and turned to me.

"Brenda, did you have anything to do with this?"

I lifted my head, and the tears came instantly.

"Dad, you can doubt my character, but you can't wound me like this. I don't even know what brand of skincare Madge uses. If you think that of me, how can you face Mom's spirit in heaven?"

At the mention of my mother, Mortimer's expression softened at once.

"All right, all right, that's not what Dad meant."

He patted my shoulder.

"Stop crying. Your mother would ache to see it."

I buried my face against his shoulder and cried until my whole body shook.

Mortimer thought I was hurt.

He didn't know I was laughing.

Madge's face wasn't any allergy at all. I'd mixed industrial-grade sodium hydroxide into that jar of face cream she used.

The stuff burns skin, but at that concentration it wouldn't show up on any test. It would just look like stubborn dermatitis.

She loved being beautiful, didn't she?

She wanted to be the pampered young lady, didn't she?

I'd make her too afraid to even look in a mirror.

During the month Madge spent in the hospital, I didn't sit idle at home either.

Selina ran back and forth to the hospital every day, coming home worn out.

Each time, I was waiting at the door with warmed soup, sweet and obedient.

"You've had such a long day, Aunt Selina. I made you this herbal chicken soup, to build up your blood and energy."

There was no poison in the soup.

I didn't need to poison every bowl.

I only needed her to build the habit of drinking whatever I brought her.

A month later, Madge was discharged.

The swelling had mostly gone down, but it left patch after patch of dark red pigment behind, the kind no foundation could cover.

She stood in front of the mirror and cried the whole afternoon.

She clutched Selina's arm, nails sinking into the flesh.

"Mom, my face is ruined!"

"This is all your fault! You just had to move us to this dump! If I'd never come here, this never would have happened to me!"

Selina let her dig in until it hurt and didn't dare lose her temper.

I listened to the whole thing from the hallway, then pushed the door open with a bowl of sweet lily and berry pudding in my hands.

"Don't be upset, Madge. I know a dermatology specialist. I'll take you to see him one of these days."

I set the bowl on the table, gentle as a real older sister.

"Have some pudding first, soothe your throat. Crying too much is bad for your skin."

Madge glared at me with her red, swollen eyes and wanted to say something, but just then Mortimer passed by the doorway, and she forced it back down.

She didn't dare turn on me in front of my father.

Because she knew that no matter what happened, a real daughter would always have that one extra layer of blood a stepdaughter didn't.

And that was the very thing she hated most.