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Seeing how thin I'd become, he grabbed Lucas's collar, “How can she donate like this?!”
“Is this how you care for her, Lucas? You're disgusting.”
He punched Lucas's mouth, but Lucas just looked at me.
“Doesn't the Blackwood family share the blame?”
“Look at her arms—even an unwanted adopted daughter shouldn't be abused like this.”
Lucas pulled back my sleeve—scars exposed.
I felt their pity, but I was numb.
Lucas always knew about my scars, but he kept demanding more for Isabella.
No surprise—just disappointment.
“How did this happen...”
I pulled my sleeve up, staring at Adrian,
“You don't know?”
Isabella did this.
She acted sweet in front of everyone, but did Adrian really not know the truth?
The burns—on my tenth birthday, after I won a national piano competition, Mom threw me a party for PR—my first birthday celebration.
Isabella was jealous—she poured boiling water on my shoulder.
I was in agony.
Adrian's first reaction, “Cover it with a jacket—no one will notice.”
He didn't even treat it—just pushed me on stage.
Daniel saw my scars too.
He looked shocked, “Impossible. Isabella said you bullied her.”
“This is just for sympathy.”
I laughed. “Right. I cut myself in high school, set off fireworks on myself, put snakes in my bag...”
With each example, their faces paled.
Just then, Adrian's phone buzzed—a message.
He meant to ignore it but accidentally played it,
“Adrian, I'm bored! Bring me that confit duck from Downtown.”
It was Isabella's voice, sweet and with a touch of coquettishness.
Lucas exploded—he punched Adrian to the ground, “You lied! You said Isabella's transplant failed to force Elara to donate!”
He kept hitting him—Adrian's face covered in blood.
“You killed my child!”
Daniel tried to stop them, but couldn't.
I watched coldly.
Lucas knelt before me, sobbing, “Elara, I didn't know!”
“After I left the operating room, Isabella refused me as her doctor—I didn't know you'd...”
Adrian begged too, “I'm sorry, sis! Please forgive me.”
“The Blackwoods raised you! Isabella was just jealous—it was small stuff. Forgive us.”
In their hopeful eyes, I said, “Stop fighting. You're both trash.”
The system nagged daily, Lucas's guilt maxed out—almost done!
Other hosts already cashed out!
I shut it up, “Keep talking, and I'll suicide.”
