Chapter 3

Penelope’s POV

The car pulled into the Ashworth estate. Through the window, I spotted Charlotte waiting at the front door.

Lysander and Nicholas both lit up.

"How did it go?" Lysander was already asking before the car stopped.

Charlotte trotted over, beaming. "First place! The judges said my presentation was flawless — especially the innovative neurological theories..."

Those innovative neurological theories were the result of three years of my research. All those sleepless nights, all that painstaking data — stolen and claimed as her own.

And here she was, basking in the spotlight, showing off.

"That's amazing!" Lysander swept her into a hug. "I knew you could do it!"

Nicholas smiled beside them. "Charlotte, you're truly exceptional."

The three of them huddled together, laughing and chatting, completely forgetting there was someone still sitting in a wheelchair.

I pushed myself toward the door, slow and alone.

"Penny!"

Charlotte bounded over. "Let me help you!"

Her voice dripped sweetness. Her smile was blinding.

The moment Lysander and Nicholas turned to grab things from the car, she leaned down and put her lips to my ear.

Then her hand clamped around my arm, nails digging deep into flesh.

"Just checking if you can still feel anything, Penny." Her voice was honeyed poison. "Wouldn't want you lying there like a corpse when Nicholas takes you to bed."

Pain shot through me. Instinctively, I shoved her with all my strength.

Charlotte stumbled back and fell — perfectly, gracefully, right on cue.

"Ah!" She clutched her wrist, whimpering in pain.

Lysander rushed to help her up. "Penny! Why did you push Charlotte?"

Charlotte shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks, still "defending" me:

"It's okay, Lysander... don't blame Penny... She must be upset because I won the award... It should've been hers... I understand... I really do..."

The more she said, the darker Lysander and Nicholas's expressions grew.

"Apologize." Lysander's voice could've frozen hell. "Now."

I lifted my arm, showing the fresh crescent marks gouged into my skin. "She grabbed me first. Look."

Lysander barely glanced at it, his brow furrowing. "That? Those are obviously from the mob at the hospital. Stop making excuses, Penelope."

Nicholas hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Penny... the nurse did say someone grabbed your arm... Don't blame Charlotte."

I stared at them, stunned.

They wouldn't even look.

Charlotte tugged at Lysander's sleeve. "Lysander, please don't be mad at Penny... She's been through so much... maybe... maybe she really didn't mean it..."

Lysander pulled her close, his voice softening. "You're always too kind, Charlotte. Too kind."

He turned to me, cold as stone. "Since you can't get along with Charlotte, you're moving to the first floor. Charlotte will take your room upstairs."

My room upstairs was designed especially for me by our parents. The walls were covered with family photos. The shelves held every trophy I'd ever won. The closet still held our mother's belongings that she'd left for me.

Now it would all belong to Charlotte.

I looked into Lysander's icy eyes and laughed.

"I won't apologize." I said, word by word. "Because I did nothing wrong."

Lysander opened his mouth to argue, but Charlotte "intervened" again: "Lysander, really, it's fine... I don't need Penny to apologize... I just want her to rest and recover..."

That little performance only stoked his fury.

"Move Penelope's things to the first floor." He didn't even look back as he ordered the staff, then took Charlotte's hand and led her upstairs.

Nicholas hesitated, glanced at me once, then followed them.

I sat alone in the vast living room. In the end, it was Berta, the housekeeper, who wheeled me to my new room on the first floor.

---

That night, I took my painkillers and drifted into an exhausted sleep.

I don't know how long I was out before searing pain wrenched me awake. It felt like someone was carving my bones with a dull blade. I tried to drag myself to my medication, but my body wouldn't obey. I finally managed to reach the pill bottle on my nightstand, opened it—

These weren't my painkillers.

Then I heard voices outside my door, hushed but heated.

"Lysander, you switched her medication?!" Nicholas sounded incredulous.

"She pushed Charlotte. She needs to learn what pain feels like." Lysander's voice was cold, cruel.

"She's already in agony!"

"Then let her suffer for one night. Consider it a lesson. I'll give her the real pills tomorrow."

A long silence.

Then Nicholas's voice again, laced with reluctant surrender: "...Just tonight. But this is the last time, Lysander. I won't let you hurt her like this again."

I lay in bed, trembling, but I couldn't feel the pain anymore.

Because the ache in my heart had eclipsed everything else.