Severing Ties of Blood and Marrow

Every time I underwent a bone marrow aspiration, it took me days to even get out of bed. This time was no different. But the house was eerily silent. Everyone had gone to the clinic to dote on Veronica, and no one had bothered to leave me so much as a glass of water.

I steadied myself against the wall and stumbled out of my room, hoping to find a piece of bread, when a cardboard box was suddenly hurled at my head. My body was still weak, and I couldn't dodge in time. The box struck my forehead, instantly drawing blood.

"Clara! What is wrong with you? We told you in the group chat at six this morning to bake Veronica's favorite cheesecake to celebrate her coming home! You couldn't even be bothered to reply?" My mother stood in the living room, hands planted on her hips. Behind her, Veronica was wrapped in a thick cashmere shawl, her face rosy, with no trace of illness.

Veronica immediately rushed over, reaching out as if to wipe the blood from my forehead but deliberately scratching the open wound with her fingernail. I flinched from the sharp pain. Her eyes instantly welled up as she turned to our mother. "Mom, don't be angry. Clara was probably just exhausted. Maybe she was sleeping and didn't see the message..."

"Sleeping?" Mother grew even angrier, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Are you doing this on purpose?"

I pulled out my phone, only to find a black screen. I’d plugged it in to charge last night, but now it was dead. I didn't have to guess who had unplugged my charger while I was asleep. She wanted my parents to think I was ignoring them on purpose.

"I didn't see the message. My phone died," I said, rubbing my aching forehead, my voice hoarse.

"Died?" Felix strode in from outside, holding my phone, its screen brightly lit. Veronica had obviously just slipped it to him. "It looks fully charged to me. Clara, can you stop making excuses? Veronica coming home is a big deal. Can't you be a little more considerate?"

Veronica tugged on Felix's sleeve. "Felix, don't scold Clara," she said softly. "I didn't really want cake that much. Clara is passionate about her design work. I bet she was up all night sketching and completely forgot to check her phone..."

"Design?" Felix sneered, his gaze sweeping over my bedroom door. The fashion design sketches I’d been working on the previous night were now torn to shreds and splattered with paint. "What's the use of that garbage? Last time, Veronica told me you didn't have a collection inspired by her and that you 'didn't want to be around a burden.' Is this how you treat your own sister?"

I was stunned. Those sketches were meant to be a birthday gift for Sterling; he had once said he wanted to see clothes I had designed myself. I had hidden them in a drawer last night, but now they were destroyed. It had to have been Veronica.

"I never said that! She's lying!" I finally raised my voice.

Mother rushed over, jabbing a finger at my forehead. "How dare you talk back? Veronica is so kind. Would she lie? Look at you—all you do is mope in your room all day, drawing or staring into space, never caring about your sister! How did we raise such an ungrateful child?"

Just then, Sterling walked in. Seeing the wound on my forehead, he frowned and strode over as if to touch it, but Veronica intercepted him, grabbing his hand.

"Sterling, don't worry. Clara just bumped her head." Veronica looked up at him, her eyes full of dependence. "I was just telling Clara I wanted her to walk with me in the garden, but she didn't seem very willing... Was I bothering her?"

Sterling faltered. He turned to me, a hint of helplessness in his voice. "Clara, Veronica just got out of the hospital. She wants you to take a walk with her. Just go, okay? She's weak and needs someone to look after her."

I saw the unwavering trust in his eyes, and a cold dread washed over me. He had seen the gash on my forehead and my pale face, yet he still believed Veronica's story without question.

"I'm not going." I stepped back, avoiding his outstretched hand. "I don't feel well. I need to rest."

"What's wrong with you?" Mother snapped. "Veronica is much weaker than you, and she hasn't said a word about not feeling well! Clara, I'm telling you, you are going today, whether you like it or not. Otherwise, you can forget about dinner!"

Veronica shot me a glance, a barely perceptible smirk on her lips. She knew that as long as she played the victim, everyone would take her side.

Looking at the family before me, the sheer absurdity of it all washed over me. Even if Sterling had moments of concern for me, he was always, always blinded by Veronica's performance.

"Fine, I'll go." I took a deep breath and turned back to my room for a jacket. At the doorway, I heard Sterling ask Veronica softly, "Did you bump into her? The wound on her forehead looks painful."

Veronica's eyes immediately reddened, her voice choking with sobs. "Sterling, I didn't! I was just trying to help Clara pick up a cup, and she tripped and fell... It's all my fault. If only I hadn't touched that cup."

My steps faltered, the last shred of hope in my heart crumbling to dust. So he had his suspicions, but Veronica's tears would always matter more than my pain.

In my jacket pocket was the copy of the island purchase contract I had secretly made yesterday. It was my only way out. In two more days, I could finally escape this suffocating home.