Chapter 3

At my follow-up appointment the next day, the doctor flipped through my test results, his frown deepening.

"Besides chronic malnutrition, you also have stress-induced gastric ulcers."

"This could become a serious issue. Do your parents know?"

They didn't know.

And they probably didn't want to know.

Growing up, if Piper so much as sneezed, Dad would panic and rush her to the hospital for a full panel of tests.

Mom would coddle her the entire time, carefully administering the most expensive imported eye drops.

But when I was curled up on the rug, drenched in cold sweat from excruciating stomach pain, unable to move?

They would just walk by and scoff.

"Such a drama queen."

Even a doctor I had just met showed more concern for me than they ever did.

"They're busy," I forced a small smile and quietly went to queue for my meds.

But in the ground-floor lobby, I ran into my parents walking Piper out of the dermatology clinic.

The receptionist handed them the bill with a bright, professional smile.

"Mr. Hayes, Mrs. Hayes, your daughter's skin is in excellent condition. It's obvious she's very well taken care of by her parents."

Mom looked incredibly proud.

"Of course. The sugar-free diet I prepared for her was strictly tailored for her nutritional needs."

Dad patted Piper's head affectionately.

"And the multivitamins she takes are custom-made."

Looking down at my diagnosis report, I felt so suffocated I could barely breathe.

Who would have thought that under the same roof, they could raise a delicate greenhouse flower alongside a withered weed?

Piper turned, happened to see me, and let out a surprised gasp.

Dad's smile vanished instantly.

"What are you doing here?"

Looking at the disgust in his eyes, I felt a lump in my throat.

"Getting medicine."

Mom frowned, pulling Piper behind her.

It was as if she was afraid I carried some virus that would infect her precious youngest daughter.

"For some minor issue, couldn't you just buy OTC meds at the pharmacy?"

Minor issue?

Having my abdomen cut open was a minor issue?

I held up the form in my hand, trying to explain that I was here for a signature, but Dad waved me off impatiently.

"Alright, we're taking your sister to brunch. Stop wandering around and go home early!"

With that, they led Piper away.

Right then, the billing department called again.

"Ms. Hayes, your parents are the primary policyholders. There is an insurance form they absolutely must sign. If this process isn't completed, all the medical expenses will be transferred to your name."

Watching my parents walk further away, I tried to chase after them.

But my incision throbbed with a piercing pain, forcing me to lean weakly against the wall.

Left with no choice, I called Dad.

"Dad, the insurance company said there's a form you need to sign..."

A short distance away, Dad stopped in his tracks, not even bothering to turn around.

"Did you submit a request?"

My throat instantly tightened. I couldn't speak.

Dad scoffed coldly.

"If you don't follow the procedure, what right do you have to take up my time?"

Immediately after, Mom snatched the phone.

"Rowan, scheduling an appointment is such a simple concept. How many times do we have to teach you?"

"Do you think our time grows on trees? That you can just demand it whenever you want?"

I gripped my phone tightly, fighting to control my emotions.

"The billing office is just upstairs. It will only take a few minutes..."

"Not even a few minutes!" Mom yelled, frustrated.

"Reservations are the bottom line in this family. Everyone has to follow the rules, no exceptions!"

Amidst the dial tone, I watched helplessly as my parents led Piper out of the main entrance.

The last bit of strength drained from my body.

My hand went slack, and the form fluttered to the floor.

The restaurant was only two blocks away.

The signing office was just upstairs.

But they wouldn't even spare a few minutes for me...

With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and confirmed my flight to London for tomorrow morning.

Then, I emailed the scholarship director, letting her know I'd be arriving early and asking if she could help coordinate my dorm move-in.

Her reply was almost instantaneous.

"No problem, I'll have someone from the International Student Office pick you up at the airport. Rowan, are you sure you don't want to stay a few more days to say a proper goodbye to your family?"

I bit my lip hard, terrified a sob would escape if I opened my mouth.

There was no need.

Staying in this house for even one more second felt suffocating.