chapter 3
They rushed Winnie to the hospital.
The second the house emptied out, I told the housekeeper to clean out the third-floor sunlit suite.
Then I moved in.
For the next few days, life was wonderfully peaceful.
No fake concern. No fake tears. No fake family warmth.
Just sunlight, fresh sheets, and quiet.
That weekend, Winnie invited me out shopping.
On the way back, just as we were about to get in the car, she pressed a hand to her stomach and made a face.
“I’m not feeling well,” she said. “I’m going into the pharmacy for medicine. The driver can come with me. Just wait here a minute, okay?”
I watched her leave.
Then three thugs with dyed yellow hair started drifting my way, cracking their knuckles, grinning in the kind of filthy way that made their intentions clear before they even opened their mouths.
I laughed inside.
Winnie.
There was a road to heaven, and you refused to take it. There was a gate to hell, and you ran right through it.
Fine.
If she wanted to set a trap for me, I would let her taste the consequence herself.
I rolled my shoulders, loosened my wrists, and before the first idiot could even touch me, I drove my fist into his throat.
The second one went down with a kick to the knee.
The third lasted a little longer. Not much.
By the time Winnie came back, all three were sprawled on the ground groaning.
Her expression twisted for a second when she saw me standing there untouched.
Then she quickly smoothed it over.
That evening, the moment I got home, I put on a trembling voice and went straight to my parents.
“A few creeps tried to attack me,” I said, eyes wet. “If I didn’t know a little self-defense, my reputation would’ve been ruined. I want to call the police. They need to be arrested.”
The front door opened before anyone answered.
Winnie came rushing in.
“Don’t call the police!”
She stopped when she saw I did not have a scratch on me. For a split second, hatred flashed through her eyes.
Then she forced a weak smile.
“Sister, we still don’t know what happened. Calling the police would hurt the family’s reputation.”
My father frowned. “She’s right.”
My brother looked me over from head to toe, his contempt obvious. “Madeline, look at yourself. Which thug would be that blind? You really think they were after you?”
My mother hesitated, then said carefully, “Could there have been some misunderstanding?”
I stared at them, calm and certain. “No misunderstanding. They came straight for me. I want justice.”
Then I turned, as if only just realizing something, and let my gaze fall on Winnie.
“Unless,” I said slowly, “they weren’t after me.”
My brother jumped in right away. “Of course they weren’t. That car usually picks up Winnie. You were standing by it, so they must’ve mistaken you for her. Otherwise, why would they go near you?”
He gave a cold laugh.
“And calling the police? Do you think the station belongs to you? Stop wasting public resources.”
My mother hugged Winnie and nodded. “That has to be it. It was all a misunderstanding. Let’s not make it a bigger issue.”
I widened my eyes. “But what if they really were after me?”
My father lost patience. “Enough, Madeline. Isn’t it obvious? They were after Winnie. You just got unlucky and took the hit for your sister.”
The joy rising inside me was so sharp I had to force myself to keep my face straight.
I looked at my mother. “You think so too?”
She answered without hesitation. “Yes. Those men were clearly after Winnie.”
I dragged out a thoughtful little hum.
“Oh. So the thugs were after Winnie.”
Then I turned and headed upstairs, whistling.
Behind me, the room went strangely quiet.
That night, Winnie got dressed up beautifully for some party.
My mother spun her around with adoring eyes. “My daughter is so gorgeous. You’re going to drive all the handsome boys crazy.”
I stood on the second-floor landing and watched the happy little family laugh together.
How sweet.
I wondered if they would still be smiling tomorrow.