Chapter 8 - Cracks in the Family
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At two o'clock that afternoon, a soft knock sounded at my door.
I expected a nurse or a physical therapist. Instead, the door swung open slowly to reveal Maya, Julian's twenty-two-year-old younger sister.
She stood in the doorway holding a small paper gift bag, looking pale, nervous, and utterly exhausted. She hadn't visited me once during my three weeks in the burn unit.
"Elena?" Maya whispered awkwardly, shrinking back slightly as her eyes caught the thick compression garment wrapped around my neck and jaw. "Can... can I come in?"
"Come in, Maya," I said neutrally.
She walked in on tiptoe, setting the paper bag onto the visitor's chair. "I brought some books... and some baby clothes for the nursery. I know Clara is still in the NICU."
"Thank you," I said.
We sat in silence for a long moment. Maya kept wringing her hands, twisting her cheap silver dress ring around her finger until her skin turned white.
"Julian told us what happened," Maya said suddenly, her voice cracking. "He told Mom and me that you lost your balance near the stove. He said you were emotionally unstable because of the late-stage pregnancy hormones... he said you threw the pot in a fit of rage."
I looked at her calmly. "And did you believe him?"
Maya lowered her head, tears spilling over her eyelashes. "At first... yes. Because he's my brother. But then I went back to Mom's house yesterday to grab some laundry."
She took a shaky breath, looking up at me with raw shame in her eyes.
"Mom was sitting in the kitchen, laughing on the phone with Julian," Maya wept. "Julian was talking about how he was going to turn Hawthorne House into luxury condos once the divorce went through. He said... he said you were 'fixed' now, and that you wouldn't be able to fight back from a hospital bed."
May you like
Maya wiped her face with the back of her sleeve.
"I know my brother is arrogant, Elena," she sobbed. "But hearing him talk like that... seeing Mom nod along like it was a business deal... it made me sick to my stomach."
