Chapter 11 - THE SISTER WHO FINALLY TOLD THE TRUTH
Lily was rescued forty-eight hours later.
Investigators located her in a rented house outside Milwaukee.
She was dehydrated.
Exhausted.
Terrified.
But alive.
When I entered the hospital room, she looked up.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then she whispered, “Evie?”
Nobody had called me that in seven years.
I stood frozen.
Lily began crying.
“I'm sorry.”
I stared.
She looked older.
Her face was thinner.
There were bruises on her wrists.
I wanted to run to her.
I wanted to hold her.
I wanted to ask why she had destroyed my life.
All at once.
Instead, I walked to the chair beside her bed.
And sat down.
Lily wiped her eyes.
“I never thought you'd come.”
I looked at her.
“You're my sister.”
Her face crumpled.
“I don't deserve that.”
I said nothing.
She took a shaky breath.
“I was jealous of you.”
My chest tightened.
She continued.
“Everyone loved you. Mom trusted you. Dad was proud of you. Adrian looked at you like you were the only woman in the world.”
I stared.
“So you decided to take him?”
She nodded.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I wanted to know what it felt like to be chosen.”
I looked away.
Seven years of pain.
And that was the reason.
Not love.
Not destiny.
Jealousy.
“Did you love him?” I asked.
Lily hesitated.
“I thought I did.”
I looked back.
“And did he love you?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
My throat tightened.
She continued.
“He told me it was over after you left. He said he'd made the worst mistake of his life.”
I stared.
“He never married anyone.”
“I know.”
Lily looked down.
“He tried to find you for years.”
I swallowed.
“That doesn't change what happened.”
“I know.”
We sat quietly.
Then Lily whispered, “I found Dad's records because I wanted to understand why Adrian's family had so much power over ours.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
She nodded.
“I thought if I exposed something, maybe you'd forgive me.”
I stared.
“Lily…”
“I know it was selfish.”
Her voice broke.
“But when I found the documents, I realized Dad might have been killed.”
I closed my eyes.
She continued.
“I couldn't stop.”
I looked at my sister.
The girl who had stolen my fiancé.
The woman who had risked her life trying to uncover our father's death.
Both were real.
One truth didn't erase the other.
I reached for her hand.
She began crying harder.
“Do you forgive me?”
I looked at her.
Then said, “Not yet.”
Her face fell.
I squeezed her hand.
“But I'm glad you're alive.”
May you like
She nodded through tears.
And for the first time in seven years, we began speaking honestly.
