He Pretended to Care for Me For My Halfsister

“I’ve decided,” I said. My voice didn’t shake, even though my heart did. “I’ll marry the paralyzed man from the Reid family. I’ll do it to save your illegitimate daughter Katie.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the steady ticking of the grandfather clock. Then my father, who had been lounging lazily in his armchair, shot to his feet. He crossed the room in two strides and pulled me into a tight hug.

“Lily,” he breathed against my hair. “This… this is the best decision you’ve ever made. You’ve made the right choice, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

For the first time in years, my father hugged me.

And just like that, I realized no matter how many awards I’d won, no matter how many times I tried to earn his love, it was never enough. But today, because I agreed to sacrifice myself for Katie, his precious illegitimate daughter, I was finally “good enough” to touch.

I shoved him away gently but firmly, straightening my sleeves like his affection left a stain. “There’s a condition,” I said, my voice cool. “I want the summer house. Transfer it to my name.”

My father blinked, stunned. “The summer house? But… that’s supposed to be Katie’s.”

I met his gaze steadily. “Then consider it payment. Take it or leave it.”

A long pause. His jaw tightened—he hated being cornered—but he knew he had no choice. He needed me to marry into the Reid family so Katie would be free to love anyone.

“Fine,” he muttered.

I smiled thinly. “And, I want a new personal chef. Fire Cameron. I don’t want him around me anymore.”

My father’s eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about? Lily, you know Cameron’s the only one who managed to cure your eating disorder. No one else could even get you to touch food!”

I stayed silent. He was right. After Mom died, after everything that happened, I had stopped eating altogether.

I was only ten when the world collapsed around me—the same day my father brought home Katie. The same day I found out my mother wasn't enough to keep his heart, nor enough to save her own life.

Losing her unborn baby, watching my father flaunt his mistress and illegitimate child… it broke her. And in the end, it killed her. And it almost killed me too.

I grew up hollow, my body wasting away as depression dug its claws in deeper. For years, my father didn’t notice—or maybe he just didn’t care.

Until one night, when I was seventeen, I snuck into a bar, desperate to feel something.

That’s where I first saw Cameron.

He wasn’t just another bartender. He had this presence—this careless charm that made me forget, for just a second, how broken I was.

I did everything to catch his eye after that night. Wore prettier clothes. Smiled more. Laughed louder. I made up reasons to go to that bar every weekend, each time praying he'd notice me—not as a broken rich girl—but as a woman.

But he never looked my way. Until one night, when he cooked something special at the bar—a dish that smelled so intoxicating I couldn’t resist. I took a bite... and for the first time in years, I actually tasted joy.

I forced my father to hire him after that. Demanded it. Threatened to starve myself again if he didn’t.

Cameron agreed to be my personal chef.

And for two years, I believed—foolishly—that maybe he stayed because of me. That maybe, finally, someone saw me.

Until the night I overheard him.

“But Young Master Brown! You need to stop playing personal chef. You are the heir of the Brown Corporation! You need to come back now!” the voice said. “Are you really going to be with that Lily?”

“Not yet. I have to stay a little longer. Katie’s still here. I took the job to get close to her, not that idiot Lily. She’s just a stepping stone. Lucky she ate the food that night, and who would have thought it would cure her eating disorder—made it easier for me to get in.”

I had stood there, frozen, as my world crumbled all over again.

I was nothing more than a pawn. Now, here I was, sealing my own fate with a marriage to a paralyzed stranger, because at least he wouldn't pretend to love me.

I turned away from my father without another word, heading back upstairs. My hands were trembling, but I clenched them into fists.

As I reached the end of the hallway, a sound stopped me.

Soft moans. I knew that voice.

My heart in my throat, I crept closer to the door left slightly ajar—Cameron’s room.

Through the crack, I saw him, shirtless, panting, his hand between his legs—and on his phone screen…

Katie’s face. He was pleasuring himself to a secret video of her.

And in between ragged moans, he whispered her name like a prayer.

“Katie… oh! I want you so much! I love you.”

I walked away silently, leaving the last piece of my pathetic hope behind me.

I didn’t sleep at all last night. Every time I closed my eyes, the same image replayed—Cameron, halfnaked, lost in his own pleasure… whispering Katie’s name like it was sacred.

My chest felt so tight it hurt to breathe.

By morning, the ache in my heart had spread to my stomach. Waves of nausea rolled over me and before I knew it, I was kneeling on the bathroom floor, vomiting until there was nothing left but bile.

Sweat beaded on my forehead. My body shook uncontrollably. I pressed a trembling hand to my abdomen—pain shot through me like a knife.

It was happening again. Whenever the stress got too much, my body just... collapsed.

Panicking, I grabbed my phone and dialed Cameron’s number.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

No answer.

My vision blurred. With what little strength I had, I dragged myself down the hallway, leaning heavily against the walls until I reached his door.

I knocked weakly.

“Cameron…” My voice was barely more than a whisper. “I need you…”

No response.

Biting my lip to keep from crying out, I twisted the doorknob and stumbled inside. Cameron was sitting on the edge of his bed, casually scrolling through his phone. The same phone he used to record Katie.

I swallowed back the bitterness and said hoarsely, “I don’t feel well. Can you… can you buy me some medicine? Maybe cook something light? Please?”

He looked up, irritation flickering across his face like I was an inconvenience.

“I can’t,” he said bluntly. “Ask one of the maids. I’m off duty for the next two days.”

I stared at him, stunned. “Cameron… you’re not just my chef. You’re supposed to be my protector too. That was our agreement.”

He shrugged. “I have important things to do. Can’t help you today.”

I opened my mouth to argue—but the look on his face stopped me cold. He wasn’t even trying to pretend anymore. There had been a time when he would fake concern. He used to bring me hot tea when I was sick. Hover around awkwardly. Say things like, “You’re important too, Lily. Don’t push yourself.”

But that was before. Before I made the biggest mistake of my life. Before I thoughtlessly pushed Katie and Cameron closer, believing that if they became friends, maybe my father would see me as more "useful," more "good."

It was me. I was the one who arranged for Cameron to tutor Katie. I was the one who asked him to protect her too.

All because I thought… If I made myself indispensable to both of them, maybe… just maybe… I'd finally be enough.

But after that, Cameron changed. Subtly at first. The tea deliveries stopped. The gentle reminders vanished. His glances, once soft and hesitant around me, turned impatient. Cold.

Now? Now he didn’t even bother hiding it. I wasn’t a person anymore. I was just a job he couldn’t wait to quit.

Dragging my heavy body back to my room felt like walking through quicksand. By the time I collapsed onto my bed, I could barely move. I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me.

When I woke again, the sun was already sinking low outside my window. My head pounded and my throat was dry, but the nausea had dulled to a slow, miserable ache.

I forced myself up and opened the door to get some air and that’s when I heard it..

Katie’s voice, bright and sweet, floated down the hallway like a knife slicing through my ribcage.

“…I had so much fun today, Cameron! I can’t believe you remembered I always wanted to go to the beach. And you even cooked for me! Your food was amazing!”

I froze, my hand tightening on the doorknob until my knuckles turned white.

Cameron’s deep, warm voice answered, full of tenderness I had never once heard directed at me.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I’m always here for you.”

Katie giggled. “My sister is so lucky to have you as her chef and protector…”

There was a short pause—then Cameron’s voice dropped into something lower. Something more intimate.

“You can have me too, Katie.”

My stomach twisted painfully.

Katie gasped playfully. “Are you serious? What about Lily? You are supposed to only serve her.”

Cameron chuckled. “Forget about her. I promise you… I’m all yours now.”

That was it. I didn’t need to hear more.

Quietly, I turned away. No screaming. No crying. No begging.

I was done playing the fool. If Cameron didn’t want me, if he never truly saw me as anything but a stepping stone—then fine. I wouldn’t lower myself any further.

I grabbed my bag, threw on a coat and headed for the door. I made it to the front steps before a familiar voice called out behind me.

“Lily?”

I turned slowly.

Cameron stood there, frowning, a hint of concern on his face. “The hell are you doing? You said you were sick. Where do you think you’re going?”

I stared at him, feeling strangely numb.

I thought about how he had smiled at Katie. How he had promised himself to her without a second thought. How he had refused to lift a finger when I was curled up in pain.

And now—now—he wanted to act like he cared?

I gave a bitter smile. “It’s none of your business anymore, Cameron. You’re on your precious day off, remember?”

Without waiting for his reply, I turned and walked away.

Before that, I heard Katie say, “Cameron! She looks pale! I think we need to follow her to make sure she’s alright. I’m worried!”

I pulled my coat tighter around myself as I stepped outside. The air was crisp, cool against my skin, but inside, I still felt sick and burning. If Cameron wouldn’t cook for me, then I’d just do it myself.

I could recreate that dish he once made. I had watched him carefully back then—memorizing every flick of his wrist, every small touch he added to the food.

Maybe I could do it. I wasn’t that helpless anymore.

These days, my eating disorder had improved. I could manage small meals without spiraling. But stress… still made the old demons creep back.

Pushing the thoughts aside, I made my way to the nearest grocery store. I wandered the aisles, carefully picking out ingredients—chicken broth, fresh vegetables, herbs, the exact ones I remembered him using.

Maybe if I cooked it myself, I’d be able to eat tonight. I was reaching for a bundle of parsley when a toofamiliar voice called out behind me.

"Lily!"

Katie’s voice was cheerful, too bright for the way my stomach dropped at the sound of it.

I turned slowly, forcing a neutral expression onto my face.

Katie bounded toward me, shopping basket swinging on her arm, her hair bouncing perfectly with every step.

Cameron trailed behind her—of course.

"I was worried about you," Katie said breathlessly. "I asked Cameron to follow you... just in case you needed help!"

She smiled shyly, like she was offering a precious gift.

"And I was thinking, maybe we can cook together? What do you say? Cameron can teach us both!"

I blinked at her.

Cook together? With her? With him standing there, pretending like he wasn’t part of why I couldn’t breathe right now?

"I don’t need your help," I said coolly, stepping past her.

I didn’t miss the way her face crumpled behind me. But I didn’t stop.

As I moved away, I still heard their conversation, low and painful like a knife twisting in my gut.

"Why is she like that?" Katie whispered, hurt clear in her voice. "I’m trying so hard for her to like me… but ever since we were little, she’s hated me. I know it’s because I’m an illegitimate child. I ruined her family…”

My steps faltered for half a second. But then Cameron’s voice cut through, firm and comforting. "No, Katie. It’s not your fault. Lily’s always been like that. You didn’t do anything wrong."

I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowed the lump in my throat, and kept walking.

I tried to focus on my list, tried to remember which aisle had the rice noodles I needed, when suddenly a loud alarm blared overhead.

Someone had pulled the fire alarm.

Panic swept through the store like wildfire. People screamed. Shopping carts were abandoned. Baskets clattered to the ground.

In the chaos, someone slammed into my side, sending me sprawling to the floor. Pain flared in my knees and palms as I hit the cold, hard tiles.

A can of tomatoes rolled toward me, hitting my shin sharply. I gasped, clutching my leg.

People rushed past me, not even glancing down.

I struggled to sit up, trying to call out, but my voice was drowned out by the stampede of terrified customers.

And then through the throng of bodies I saw him.

Cameron. He was looking around frantically, searching.

My heart leapt. I opened my mouth to call him, to scream for him—

But his eyes passed right over me.

He didn’t see me. He only saw Katie.

She was a few feet away, frozen in fear.

Without hesitation, he ran toward her.

"Katie!" he shouted.

I watched, helpless, as he reached her, scooping her into his arms protectively.

At that same moment, a shelf wobbled dangerously above them. A cascade of canned goods and heavy packs tumbled down.

Katie screamed.

But Cameron shielded her with his own body, taking the brunt of it. The heavy cans hit him across the back and shoulders—hard. He grunted in pain but didn’t move away from her.

"Oh no! You’re hurt because of me!" Katie sobbed, her hands fluttering helplessly around him. “I’m sorry!”

Cameron laughed softly, brushing her hair back from her face despite the blood trickling from a cut on his temple.

"It’s okay," he said, voice gentle and firm. "Even if I got hurt a hundred times… I’d still do it, as long as you’re safe."

I pressed a hand against my mouth, the pain blooming inside me so fiercely it felt like I might vomit again.

They ran together toward the emergency exit, Cameron still shielding her, limping slightly.

And me? I was left there on the floor. Another shelf, loosened by the earlier commotion, creaked above me.

Before I could even register it, something heavy crashed down against my shoulder. The last thing I saw was the fluorescent lights blurring above me as darkness pulled me under.

I woke up to the sharp smell of disinfectant and the steady beep of hospital machines. My whole body felt like it had been broken apart and pieced back together wrong. Every movement sent aches screaming through my muscles.

When I tried to sit up, a raw, burning pain lanced across my shoulder. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

Looking down, I saw bruises blooming purple and blue across my arms, and angry red burns along my collarbone. A neat white bandage wrapped around my thigh, and a dull throb pulsed underneath it.

The door creaked open and a nurse peeked in, offering a warm, professional smile.

"You’re awake, Miss," she said gently. "Please don’t move too much yet. You need rest."

I nodded stiffly, my throat too dry to respond.

She bustled around for a moment, checking my IV and jotting notes onto a clipboard. Before she left, she paused by the small table near the window.

"Oh, someone left food for you," she said. "You should try to eat when you feel up to it."

I turned my head.

There, on the table, was a greasy takeout bag from a fastfood place. It wasn’t even opened, much less plated or prepared properly. Just dumped there like an afterthought.

Not even a glass of water. The sight made something cold and hollow bloom in my chest.

"Where’s Cameron?" I croaked out.

The nurse tucked her pen behind her ear and said casually, "In the next room. He’s with the other patient."

Katie. Of course.

The nurse left, leaving the door slightly ajar. And despite knowing it would hurt—physically and emotionally—I pushed myself out of bed.

Every step was a battle. My legs trembled under me. But still, I forced myself down the hallway.

When I reached the room next door, I peered inside—and my stomach twisted.

Cameron was sitting by Katie’s bedside, a gentle smile on his face. He was feeding her carefully, each spoonful something homemade. Real food—her favorites. Steamed dumplings, creamy pasta, roasted vegetables—all beautifully plated, just like he used to do for me when he still pretended to care.

Katie’s eyes shone with happiness.

"You’re the best cook ever, Cameron!" she giggled, her cheeks flushed. "No one can beat you."

He laughed softly. "You’re just saying that to flatter me."

"I mean it!" Katie beamed, reaching out to grab his hand playfully.

And then—another gut punch. My father was there too, standing near the window, chatting with them, smiling.

My father. The same man who hadn’t even bothered to check if his real daughter was alive after being trampled in a grocery store.

I stood there like a ghost, unseen, unimportant.

Hours passed. Days. Katie was discharged with fanfare—balloons, flowers, gifts. Everyone celebrated like it was her birthday. No one mentioned me. No one offered to pick me up.

So, I signed my own discharge papers. Called my own taxi.

Hauled my bruised, battered body back to the house alone. When I opened the front door, laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway.

Katie was in the living room, surrounded by mountains of beautifully wrapped presents. Boxes piled high, glittering with expensive ribbons.

She twirled around, hugging a giant teddy bear.

"Can you believe it, Cameron?" she squealed. "Young Master Brown actually favors me! Me! I haven’t even met him yet, but he sent all of this!"

I froze in the doorway.

I knew better. There was no Young Master Brown.

It was Cameron. It was always Cameron. He was just hiding behind the name—creating fairy tales for Katie.

As I stepped inside, Katie spotted me.

Her smile faltered—but only for a second.

"Oh, Sister!" she cried, skipping toward me. "You’re home! How are you feeling?"

Before I could step back, she reached for my arm, trying to touch me.

I flinched instinctively and pulled away.

"I’m fine," I said coldly. "Have fun."

And with that, I turned and climbed the stairs, leaving her pouting behind me.

Of course, Cameron was there in a heartbeat, comforting her as if I had slapped her.

I didn’t care anymore. Not one bit.

Instead, I went straight to my room. Pulled out my suitcases. Started packing.

I couldn’t stay here any longer. Every second under this roof was another crack in whatever was left of my soul.

I was folding my clothes, trying to steady my hands, when there was a knock at the door.

Before I could answer, Katie barged in—carrying a tray.

"I brought you soup," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Cameron made it just for you! You should eat while it’s hot!"

I barely spared her a glance. "Leave me alone."

But she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She pushed the tray closer, stepping into my space.

"I’ll feed you if you want," she said brightly. "I just want us to be close, Sister—"

I pushed the tray back.

"Get out," I said, my voice low and tired.

But Katie only smiled sweetly and stepped forward and in a deliberate, calculated move, she tilted the tray, sending the steaming bowl of soup spilling across my arm.

Pain exploded instantly. I screamed, stumbling back from the scalding heat burning my skin raw.

Katie gasped theatrically, letting the tray clatter noisily to the floor. She clutched her own hand—barely touched by the splash of soup—and screwed up her face, forcing out fake, pitiful tears.

The door slammed open.

Cameron burst in, panic flashing across his face. He took one glance at the scene and without hesitation, shoved me roughly aside.

I hit the dresser hard, the edge jamming painfully into my ribs. I gasped, the breath knocked out of me.

But Cameron didn’t even look at me.

He was already kneeling in front of Katie, frantic, treating her like she was made of glass.

"Are you hurt?!" he demanded, his hands trembling as he grabbed hers.

Katie whimpered, her voice small and innocent. "I didn’t mean to! It slipped... I’m sorry, Cameron…"

"It’s okay," he whispered, brushing her hair back, his touch so gentle it made my chest ache. "Don’t cry. It’s not your fault. Let’s get you to the hospital, just to be sure."

Without sparing even a glance at me—Without seeing the burns blooming angry and red across my skin… Cameron scooped Katie into his arms and rushed out of the room.

Dragging myself to the hospital alone was becoming a habit. By now, I barely even felt the pain anymore—it was just a dull, constant presence that gnawed at the edges of my mind.

The burns on my arm throbbed with every step, each movement a reminder that in this house, in this life, I was nothing.

After they treated me and wrapped fresh bandages around my burns, I thought I could finally crawl back into bed and disappear for a while.

But no. My phone buzzed just as I was leaving the hospital.

It was my father.

“Go to the wedding boutique. Try on the dresses. No excuses.”

I stared at the message, my hands trembling slightly.

Of course. Because what else did he see me as anymore except a bargaining chip for the family?

With a heavy heart, I made my way to the boutique. The fitting room was bright, almost blinding. Rows of silk and lace and tulle filled the space, a sea of white suffocating me.

I tried on the dresses one by one, each one heavier than the last. I stared at myself in the mirror, barely recognizing the holloweyed girl staring back.

Just a few more days, I reminded myself. Just a few more days, and I’ll leave this hell behind.

I pushed through the appointments, smiled politely at the attendants, nodded when they clucked approval.

When it was over, I stepped out into the evening air, exhausted.

I was about to call a taxi when a black van screeched to a stop beside me.

Before I could react, rough hands grabbed me, pulling me inside.

I woke up in a cold, damp warehouse, the stench of cigarettes and sweat burning my nose.

My wrists were tied painfully behind my back, my body bruised and aching from being thrown around like a rag doll.

I tried to sit up, but the second I moved, one of the men stomped forward and shoved me back down with the heel of his boot.

"Stay down, bitch," he growled.

Terror gripped me.

“What... what did I do?” I croaked out. “Why are you doing this?!”

One of them laughed cruelly, flicking ashes from his cigarette onto the floor.

"You hurt Young Master Brown’s love," he sneered. "You burned sweet little Katie. You think you can touch her and get away with it?"

My blood ran cold.

Katie.

Of course. This was Cameron’s doing. The Young Master Brown fantasy he spun for her… he must have fed it so deeply that his own men believed it.

Before I could scream, one of them jabbed the burning end of a cigarette into my back.

I screamed so loud my throat tore.

Again. And again. They pressed smoldering cigarettes into my skin, laughing as I writhed and begged for them to stop.

Tears blinded me, pain swallowing me whole. Every burn carved itself into my body—a permanent reminder that I had never been wanted. Never been protected.

After what felt like hours, they tossed me out like garbage.

Somehow, I made it back to the hospital.

Another round of treatment. Another round of silence.

Days blurred together. When I was finally discharged—alone, again—I called a taxi and went home.

The house was full of music and laughter when I arrived. From the garden, I heard Katie’s shrill, excited voice.

Hiding behind a tree, I listened.

"I got so many gifts from Young Master Brown!" she squealed to her friends. "Isn’t it amazing?"

One of them giggled. "What are you planning to do?"

Katie laughed, a high, tinkling sound.

"Of course, marry him if he asks me to, since I was sure that he truly likes me," she said proudly. "What else?"

"And what about Cameron?" one of the girls asked. "He’s so good to you..."

"Oh, please," Katie snorted. "I'm not marrying a lowly chef. I only kept him around to make my sister jealous. It’s fun stealing everything from her."

The girls laughed. I stood there, frozen, the words stabbing deeper than any cigarette burn ever could.

But I didn’t cry.

Not anymore.

I entered the house quietly.

Katie spotted me immediately.

"Sister!" she chirped, skipping over like nothing had happened. "Come with me, let’s celebrate!"

I didn’t even look at her.

"Have fun," I said, pushing past.

Katie’s smile faltered, but she caught up to me quickly, tugging at my arm.

"Why are you jealous?" she pouted. "Is it because you're marrying that paralyzed man instead of me marrying a eal catch like Master Brown? Is that why you’re mad?"

I said nothing. But when she saw that her words didn’t provoke a reaction, she leaned closer, her voice low and vicious.

"You're just like your mother. Useless. Broken. No wonder she ended up the way she did."

Something inside me snapped. I turned, grabbed a fistful of her perfect hair, and yanked hard.

Katie screamed.

I ripped the necklace from her throat—the one with my mother’s locket she wore like some trophy—and threw it across the room.

"Remove that!" I shouted, my voice cracking with rage. "You don’t deserve to wear my mother’s memory while you spit on her! How dare you!"

The door slammed shut behind me with a deafening finality.

Grounded. Locked inside my room like a criminal. Because I had dared to touch his precious Katie.

I sat on the edge of my bed, fists clenched tightly in my lap, trying not to let the tears spill. But it was no use. The walls felt like they were caving in, suffocating me with everything I had tried so hard to survive.

Hours later, my father came storming in, his face twisted with disgust.

"You’ve always been like this, Lily," he said coldly. "Selfish. Jealous. Broken—just like your mother."

Each word was a slap across the face. He didn’t even look at me with anger anymore. Just... disappointment. Like I was something dirty he wished he could wipe away.

"And now," he sneered, "you dare hurt the only daughter worth something?"

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

Not once during my punishment did Cameron come. Not even a text. Not even a knock on the door.

It was as if I had disappeared—and no one cared.

When the lock finally clicked open the next day, I didn’t waste a second.

I grabbed my suitcases—the ones I had already packed—and slung my coat over my aching shoulders. My burns throbbed under the fabric, but I ignored it.

I was done. I was halfway through checking my bag one last time when my phone buzzed.

A message from the family lawyer.

"The summer house deed has been officially transferred to your name, Miss Lily, and also a new personap chef."

I stared at the screen, a small, broken laugh escaping my throat.

At least one thing they had promised me was real. Without hesitation, I pocketed my phone and rolled my suitcase toward the door.

On my way out, I passed Katie’s room. Through the slightly open door, I glimpsed Cameron sitting beside her, carefully adjusting her pillows, laughing softly at something she said.

She was draped in blankets, pale and fragilelooking, playing the perfect victim.

I simply walked past. They had each other now.

I reached the front gate, dragging my suitcase behind me.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the driveway. The cab I had called was already waiting, engine idling softly.

I was about to step inside when a voice called out behind me.

"Lily!"

I turned slowly. Cameron was jogging toward me, his face pulled tight with confusion.

"Where are you going?" he asked, slightly breathless.

I smiled—empty, tired. "On a trip," I said simply.

His brows furrowed. "Alone? Without me?"

"Yes," I said, meeting his eyes steadily. "Without you."

He looked thrown off, like he couldn’t quite compute what I was saying.

"But you always brought me when you traveled," he said, voice low. "You always said you needed me there…"

I shrugged. "Well, things change."

Cameron’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

"But why?" he asked. "Why now? What is happening?"

I tilted my head slightly, studying him.

"Because," I said softly, "my sister needs you more. I heard she likes the pastries from that new bakery in town. Why don’t you go get them for her?"

I smiled—a real one this time. One dripping with bitter understanding.

"I’ll be back… maybe," I added casually.

Before he could say another word, I slid into the cab and closed the door.

The car pulled away from the curb. Through the window, I saw Cameron standing there, frozen, his face dark with something he couldn’t even name.

Guilt? Regret? It didn’t matter anymore.

As the cab turned the corner, I pulled my phone from my pocket.

I removed the SIM card—the one filled with numbers of people who had never truly been mine.

Without hesitation, I rolled down the window and flicked it into the wind.