Chapter 3

The moment I stepped into the Sutherland estate, a bodyguard kicked me down onto my knees. Old Mr. Sutherland glanced at me like I was a pile of trash.

"Leave her out on the back terrace. A full day and a night."

It was the dead of winter. I knelt out there in nothing but thin clothes, my wrists tied.

They set a camera up in front of me, and old Mr. Sutherland grabbed my chin."You had the nerve to hurt my granddaughter. Every minute of this goes to your parents, so they can watch exactly what I do to their precious daughter!"

I looked at the little camera and smiled bitterly. He had it wrong. I wasn't their precious daughter. They wouldn't feel a thing.

The night crawled by. My vision blurred a little more with every hour, and eventually I passed out.

A bucket of ice water hit me and dragged me awake, and a boot came down hard on my back.

"You were so tough when you were beating Piper! What happened? Where did all that go?"

I coughed up a mouthful of blood, and it sprayed across the untouched snow and spread like spilled wine on white linen.

Old Mr. Sutherland snorted and had a bodyguard hand him a knife. He drew it slowly down my cheek.

"My granddaughter has three scars on her face. You're going to pay for every one."

I shook with terror and squeezed my eyes shut, hopeless, as the pain tore through my cheek. I screamed and thrashed, clutching my bloody face.

Meanwhile, Mom, Dad, and Callum sat in the dining room, celebrating Sloane's narrow escape.

Three days later, I stood in front of Callum with a scarred face. He froze. He obviously didn't recognize me at first. Two seconds later, his eyes filled with pain and glistened with tears.

"Willa… God, what they put you through… Don't worry, I'll make it up to you, I swear! I'll take care of you for the rest of my life!"

He pulled me into his arms and held me tight, but when his eyes landed on my ruined face, he looked away.

Five years ago, he fell for me at first sight, because of my face. He said I was the most beautiful woman in the world. He chased me like a man possessed and showered me with expensive gifts. When I told him how unfairly I was treated at home, he even wiped the tears from my eyes.

He promised me a new home, a place where I could finally be happy. He really did love me then.

So when did it all change?

Probably at our wedding, the first time he saw Sloane's face. It was identical to mine, only more fragile. Next to me, she looked like someone who needed protecting.

He'd fallen for me at first sight because of my face, so of course he'd feel the same about Sloane, who had the exact same one. He might even have liked her better, for the novelty.

Thinking about that, I shoved Callum away in disgust and went upstairs. Not long after, I heard him out on the balcony, on the phone with my parents.

"It's a good thing it was only her face. Anywhere else, and she'd have a hard time getting through the drug trials."

Every word went through my heart like a blade.

And right then, I suddenly felt that my death might be a good thing. I wouldn't have to live through any more of this misery.

With red, swollen eyes, I opened my bedroom door, and there was Sloane, sprawled across my bed. When she saw the scars on my face, she froze for a second. Then she slapped the mattress and laughed so hard she couldn't breathe.

For a dying girl, she had plenty of energy. I'd known for a long time that she was faking. I'd once seen her tossing her pills into a gutter at school.

I'd told Mom and Dad about it once. All I got for it was a few slaps and a lot of insults.

Now, I really wantws to know what everyone would do in response to the truth being known.

"Willa, we don't look alike anymore. Your husband's going to give up on you for good now." She ran her fingers over the scars on my face like a snake flicking its tongue.

I caught her wrist and said quietly,"Good. If he gives up on me, he's all yours."

Three days were left before the drug trials began, and my life was almost over. When the time came, the medication would tear through my body. I'd break out in rashes, vomit until I had nothing left, and be wrecked with pain.

At the end, I'd struggle to breathe, and the complications from the drug would trigger cardiac arrest. What would be left of me was a cold, rotting corpse.

What would Mom, Dad, and Callum do then? Be shocked? Be scared? Would they be sad for me, would they shed even one tear?

I doubted it. They'd just be happy that someone they didn't want was gone.

The three days flew by. Mom, Dad, and Callum drove me to the clinical research center themselves. At the entrance, Mom and Dad wrapped their arms around Sloane like the trials had already worked.

"All those years of waiting, and it's finally paying off! Sloane, your suffering is almost over."

"Let's book the best table in town tonight and celebrate early. We'll order all your favorites."

Callum watched them with a soft look, then stepped forward and took her hand."Once you're better, what if I take you on a trip around the world?"

I was the one walking to the execution ground, and still they only had eyes for Sloane.

I'd thought I was used to it by now. But in the last moments of my life, it still felt like I was being cut open.

I couldn't help turning around to ask them.

"Will you be sad if I die in the center?"