For Her Ex, The Wife Abandoned Her Sister in the Hands of the Criminals

It was the dead of night when Emma finally returned home, dragging a suitcase behind her. Seeing me still awake on the couch, she paused, "Why aren't you asleep?"

Before I could respond, I noticed Jack standing just behind her, a smug, challenging look in his eyes.

"Jack hasn't found a place yet, so he's staying with us for now. Go prepare the guest room," Emma ordered. "And make sure the sheets are silk—his skin is sensitive to cotton."

Suppressing my anger, I met her gaze. "Don't you care at all about what happened today?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "What's there to worry about? Surely everything was resolved, right? They caught the guy, didn't they?"

As her eyes swept the mess around us, her demeanor changed instantly. "Can't you keep the house tidy? I'm busy enough with work! Why can't you do anything right?"

Busy, sure—busy meeting an ex-boyfriend.

I let out a bitter laugh. "Am I supposed to clean up to make room for you two?"

Jack coughed strategically, stepping in. "James, I'm really sorry for imposing. If you'd prefer, I'll leave."

He tried to take the suitcase from Emma, but she gripped his hand instead, turning to me with venom in her voice, "Enough already. This house? I bought it. Everything here—I paid for it. Why are you acting all high and mighty?"

Then she pulled Jack into the guest room, slamming the door and leaving me isolated on the outside.

Pain and helplessness washed over me, and I slumped back down. My mind drifted to the day before, when Emma stormed up to me in a fury.

"James, did you send Lily money again? I saw her in a new outfit today. Did you buy it for her?"

Caught off guard, I nodded. "Yeah, my bonus came in this month. I sent her a thousand for living expenses."

Emma was visibly livid, her chest heaving with unspent emotion. "Why give her anything? How long are you going to keep supporting this freeloader?"

I tried to explain—though we'd been over this countless times. Lily was three years younger than me and left school to work because of our family's preference for me. After our parents died, we scraped by, supporting each other.

"She's my sister. Since the accident took her right hand, she has little choice but to rely on me. Our family could only afford one of us to go to school, and she offered to step back."

Emma scoffed at my explanation, clearly unimpressed. "Poor people's problems are such a hassle," she muttered dismissively, looking away.

This morning, Lily and I had planned to visit our parents' graves, but I never got her reply. Then Detective Miller called with grim news—Lily had been taken by a kidnapper.

Panic set in, and when I arrived at the scene, there was Lily, held by a tall, wiry man, a knife to her throat. Her eyes found mine, desperate.

"Brother, please help me!"

Instinct urged me forward, but Detective Miller held me back, his face grave. "The situation's volatile. We need Officer Emma Johnson to negotiate," he insisted.

The kidnapper spun wild-eyed, shouting at the gathering crowd, "Stay back, all of you!"

Emma stood at the perimeter, surveying the scene impassively, periodically glancing at her phone. Desperate, I begged her to intervene, but she brushed me off with nonchalance.

"There are so many people to see every day. Why him? And Lily will be fine—look at all these officers here."

Panic surged, and with desperation, I grabbed her sleeve, begging, "But he said he'd only talk if you came—"

"Enough with the whining!" she snapped, shaking me off. "I said it's fine—why don't you believe me?"

Her phone screen flashed with the name "Jack," and I saw joy flood her face. She left the crowd, rushing to meet him. The wind carried fragments of her words to me.

"…yes, I'm coming right away."

Emma brushed past once more, and I sank to the ground as she drove off, severing the last thread of hope I held for her.