Chapter 2

Celeste's POV

Allen paused. "What do you mean? Celeste, are you throwing another tantrum?"

Dad frowned. "Celeste, you already agreed to donate the kidney. What do you mean by saying this now?"

"Exactly," Mom said with displeasure. "You're always like this—agreeing then backing out. Vivienne is so sick, how long are you going to keep causing trouble?"

I looked at them quietly without explaining. Explanations were useless anyway.

Vivienne spoke weakly, "Mom, Dad, don't blame sister. She's probably scared of the surgery. I understand." Then she looked at me provocatively. "Sister, you should take care of your health too."

"See, Vivienne is still so considerate," Mom praised, then suddenly served me some walnut salad. "Celeste, eat more. You need to maintain your strength."

I froze. This was the first time in years Mom had served me food. I stared at the salad in my bowl, moved yet bitter.

No one remembered I was severely allergic to nuts.

I remembered a Thanksgiving dinner from childhood. Not knowing about my nut allergy, I happily ate a large piece of pecan pie.

Vivienne immediately threw a tantrum: "I want pie too! I want a big piece! Mom, look at sister—she took the biggest piece!" My parents' attention was completely drawn to her, and no one noticed I was going into anaphylactic shock.

When I woke up in the ER, all I heard was Dad's reproach: "Celeste, how could you be so careless? You ruined Thanksgiving for the whole family!"

It was the same now. Vivienne sat there enjoying everyone's care while I remained invisible. From beginning to end, no one remembered my allergy.

I quietly finished the other food, leaving the walnut salad on my plate.

After dinner, I excused myself to my room, claiming fatigue. The moment I closed the door, I could finally drop the act.

I pulled out the divorce papers Allen had already signed. The familiar handwriting reminded me of his signature on our marriage certificate, when he promised me: "Celeste, you're finally my wife. I'll spend my life loving and protecting you."

How ironic.

I smiled bitterly as I finished signing, then suddenly felt sharp pain shoot through my head. Warm liquid flowed from my nose, dripping onto the divorce papers.

Just then, Allen knocked on my door. "Celeste? Are you in there?"

I quickly put away the papers and wiped the blood. "What is it?"

Allen pushed the door open. "Are you packing?"

"Just organizing some old things," I replied calmly.

"I just discussed with your parents—we've decided to throw a celebration party for Vivienne to celebrate finding a suitable kidney donor."

"Do whatever you want," I said flatly.

Allen frowned. "Alright, I'll make arrangements. Get some rest and maintain your physical condition."

Over the next few days, Allen became incredibly "caring." He supervised my meals daily, ensuring I consumed enough protein and vitamins, even hiring a nutritionist. Everyone praised him as a good husband. Only I understood the true purpose behind this care.

Three nights later, the celebration party officially began.

The living room was brilliantly lit and packed with people—relatives and friends all came to celebrate this "good news."

"Celeste is such a good sister!"

"Such deep sisterly love, so touching!"

"Vivienne is so lucky to have such a selfless sister!"

Praise echoed throughout, but all focus was on Vivienne. She sat on the sofa, weakly smiling as she accepted everyone's care, with Allen beside her, gently adjusting her blanket.

I felt dizzy and quietly went to the less crowded second-floor game room.

Tommy was on the carpet, concentrating on controlling his remote-control car. Tommy was the precious child of the Hartwell couple, our family's important business partners, and the sole heir of the entire Hartwell family.

Just then, Vivienne came upstairs. She had clearly been drinking, with flushed cheeks and unsteady steps.

She didn't notice Tommy playing seriously on the floor and walked straight ahead. Tommy's remote car sped past her feet and hit her shin.

"Ah!" Vivienne lost her balance and staggered.

"Oh! My little car!" Tommy rushed over to check.

But Vivienne was completely enraged. "You little brat! You hurt me!"

"You... you broke my car!" Tommy was frightened by her intensity.

"Damn car!" Vivienne was furious and reached for Tommy. "You little pest, you almost made me fall!"

Tommy backed away scared, but Vivienne had completely lost control. She shoved Tommy hard. "Get away!"

The boy was caught off guard, lost his balance, and tumbled down the staircase, hitting the marble steps hard and immediately losing consciousness.

"Tommy!" Mrs. Hartwell screamed.

Mr. Hartwell rushed up the stairs, saw his son lying in a pool of blood, and roared, "WHO? Who hurt my son?"

All the guests rushed toward the stairs. At that moment, only Vivienne and I were in the second-floor game room.

Vivienne instantly resumed her weak demeanor. "I... I don't know anything. I felt unwell and came up to rest, then I saw Tommy fall..."

All eyes turned to me.

"It must be Celeste!" someone shouted. "She was up here the whole time!"