They Let Me Burn to Save His Mistress

The sky was beginning to brighten, and thunder boomed outside my window. I jolted awake from a nightmare, my pajamas damp with cold sweat, my body shaking uncontrollably. Instinctively, I reached for my phone on the pillow beside me. As soon as I unlocked it, Miriam Howard's latest Facebook post jolted me back to reality.

That's when it hit me—I had been abandoned by them.

"Matthew and Carson promised to stay with me on every stormy night. I feel so blessed!" read the post, accompanied by a picture of a room I knew all too well—pink walls, delicate decor, even the two quilts on the floor were painfully familiar.

Countless stormy nights, I'd slept soundly in that very room. Whenever thunder crashed, Matthew and Carson would rush to cover my ears, whispering softly until I drifted back to sleep. But now, the same scene, the same gestures, were meant for someone else.

I clutched the blanket tightly, trying to cocoon myself further. Suddenly, the phone rang, breaking the silence.

"Get over here, it's urgent!" On the other end, Carson, usually so calm, sounded strangely frantic.

I frowned and quickly hung up, doubting their so-called urgent matter involved anyone other than Miriam. Yet I underestimated their persistence; the phone kept ringing endlessly.

Next came a loud bang as Matthew kicked open the door, standing there fuming with anger.

"What tantrum are you throwing now? Get back with me, Miriam won’t eat unless she has your beef stew."

That stew was something my mom had taught me to make, step by step. Over the years, I'd only ever made it for Matthew and Carson. They knew how important it was to me, yet here they were, asking me to make it for Miriam.

"Why should I make the stew? It's not Mom and Dad's anniversary," I said, fighting back tears, my eyes growing red with suppressed emotion.

Matthew hesitated for a moment, then his gaze turned impatient. He grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the door. "Stop being so stubborn! Miriam wants it, so you have to make it!"

He was strong, and I couldn't break free, so I was dragged all the way to the Sullivan house.

Inside, I was met with a sight that cut deep. Carson was gently coaxing Miriam to eat, his eyes filled with the kind of affection I once knew so well. The table was laid with various dishes, all beautifully presented. Even on my birthday, Carson had never prepared so much.

Now, they were in a frenzy just because Miriam claimed she couldn't eat.

"Kiara, I'm sorry for bothering you. Ever since that day, I've been too anxious to eat, and staying in the hospital didn’t help. When Matthew mentioned you could make beef stew, I just thought it must be delicious," Miriam said, rubbing her eyes with feigned innocence, her wide eyes accusing me of being petty.

I stared at her coldly. "If you're sick, see a doctor. Stew can't fix that."

No sooner had I spoken than Miriam's tears fell like a broken string of pearls. Carson's face tightened with concern. He hurried to wipe her tears and pulled her close, gently patting her back and murmuring comfort.

Matthew's face was a mask of rage. He grabbed a coffee cup and hurled it at me. I didn’t even have time to dodge before I felt a sharp pain in my calf. Warm liquid trickled down, and when I looked, blood was pooling on the floor. I stared blankly at the shattered coffee cup—a replica of my efforts, meant as a birthday gift for Matthew.

I remembered his expression when he first received the cup. He had held it as if it were a treasure, promising to cherish it forever. Yet now, that very cup had been used to chastise me, broken in pieces at my feet.

Matthew noticed the familiar cup but merely paused before looking away indifferently.

Then, out of nowhere, a black Maine Coon named Shadow leapt. Its luminous green eyes glinted ominously. My heart raced, and I instinctively wanted to escape. But Shadow lunged at me, clawing and biting.

“No, Shadow! Kiara isn't a bad person!” Miriam shrieked in mock fear.

I couldn't evade it; Shadow's bite tore into my arm, its claws embedded deep in my skin. I struggled to shake it off, but the cat was relentless.

Agonizing pain seared my arm, wave after wave, threatening to overwhelm me. Carson and Matthew rushed to Miriam's side, covering her eyes protectively.

Old scars on my arm reopened, and blood poured forth. Since a feral cat clawed me when I was ten, I had feared aggressive animals. Matthew and Carson were well aware, which is why we never had pets around us for years.

Finally, it was Riggs, the chauffeur, who stepped in. He rushed over and, with effort, managed to pry the Maine Coon away.

“Miss, may I bandage that for you?” Riggs asked, his voice heavy with concern as he glanced at my injured arm.

I surveyed the absurd scene before me, a wave of desolation washing over. I shook my head slowly.

“No, I’ll go to the hospital myself.”

I stood, the pain from my arm radiating through my entire body with each movement. The hallway, once adorned with portraits capturing my childhood, was now filled with pictures of Miriam.

In the garden, where Matthew had built a swing for me, there was now only a flowerbed filled with roses. We had shared so many joyful moments on that swing, but it had become a rose bed—a plant I was allergic to.

I clutched my nose and mouth instinctively, trying to protect myself from the pollen. As soon as I stepped out the door, hives broke out over my skin, itching and crawling like ants.

A bitter smile touched my lips as I looked at the rash-covered skin. Dizziness clouded my mind, and the world around me blurred into a haze.

As I collapsed, I vaguely saw Matthew and Carson's car drive past.

“It’s Kiara…”

“Don't worry about her; you are what matters most!”