Chapter 15: The awakening

It's such a beautiful day for revenge, as I was thinking.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was Amanda.

“Rose?” her voice was cautious, like she was afraid to shatter me with her tone.

“Mm,” I murmured, sitting up.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Maybe it’s time we start taking action. We can’t just... ”

“I already made up my mind,” I interrupted. “I’m pressing charges.”

Amanda hesitated. “Charges?”

“For defamation,” I said, standing up, pulling my hair into a low bun. “Nancy and Jenny slandered me publicly. They turned me into a spectacle. I’m done being their joke.”

There was silence, then Amanda’s voice softened. “Good. That’s the Rose I knew before all this madness.”

"Yes.” I reached for my coat. “I realized something.”

“What’s that?”

“That feelings, are weaknesses.”

By noon, I was on the phone with my lawyer, Mr. Hutchins. He had the voice of a man who’d seen every kind of scandal.

“Mrs. Miller,” he said, “I’ll need every screenshot, every broadcast link, every statement they made against you.”

“It’s all public,” I said, “Their press conference, their hashtags, the posts. You won’t need to dig far. They wanted an audience, let’s give them one.”

“Understood,” he said. “I’ll have the papers ready tomorrow. You’ll need to sign them.”

“I’ll come by when I can,” I said, then paused. “But I have another matter to take care of first.”

There was a sharpness in my voice I hadn’t heard before, steel where there used to be warmth.

That “matter” was Anna.

She’d been silent for a few days, but I knew her silence. It wasn’t peace, it was plotting. Anna always resurfaced when she smelled blood, like a shark in shallow water.

So, I called her first.

“Anna,” I said when she picked up.

“Well, look who finally decided to call,” she said with a smug laugh. “What’s wrong, sister? The world too heavy for your delicate heart?”

Her tone didn’t sting anymore. It just sounded pathetic.

“I wanted to talk,” I said simply. “You were right about me. Maybe I do need help.”

There was a pause. “What kind of help?”

“I’m checking into the institute,” I said. “For mental health. I thought… maybe you could come with me.”

I could almost hear her grin through the phone. “Oh, Rose. I knew you’d come around. Of course, I’ll come. I’ll make sure you get the help you need.”

“Thank you,” I said softly. “It means a lot.”

“Don’t thank me,” she purred. “You’re finally doing what’s best for everyone.”

The next day, the sky was a bruised gray when we arrived at the institute. It was quiet, surrounded by pine trees that looked like guards. The sign read: Eastbridge Behavioral Wellness Center.

The receptionist smiled. “Welcome. Are you here for an evaluation?”

“Yes,” I said. “For both of us.”

Anna blinked. “Both?”

“Yes,” I said sweetly, turning toward her. “I want to make sure we’re both okay. The last few weeks have been… stressful.”

The receptionist nodded and led us into a white hallway. The walls smelled like antiseptic and secrets.

When the doctor arrived, an older man with kind eyes, he smiled. “So, who’s the patient?”

Anna pointed at me immediately. “She is. My sister. She’s been unstable for months.”

The doctor’s gaze turned to me. “Is that true, Mrs. Miller?”

I smiled faintly. “Well, that’s what she says. But maybe you should observe her first. She tends to scream without reason and accuse people of things that aren’t real.”

Anna whipped around. “What the hell are you saying?”

“She also flails her arms when she talks,” I continued. “Like now.”

Anna’s voice rose. “You’re lying! Doctor, she’s manipulating you!”

“Calm down, Miss,” the doctor said gently.

“I am calm!” she yelled, stepping closer to him. “She’s dangerous!”

“See?” I said quietly. “She’s escalating.”

Anna turned to me, shaking. “You set me up.”

The doctor frowned. “Miss, please—”

“Don’t touch me!” she screamed as the nurses approached. She struggled wildly, eyes wide with betrayal. “You snake! You snake!”

“Sedative,” the doctor ordered calmly.

“NO!” she shrieked as the nurse held her down. “You’ll regret this, Rose! You'll... ”

But her words dissolved into broken sobs as the needle slipped under her skin.

When it was done, she went limp. Her face was pale and wet with tears.

I stood there, unmoving.

The doctor sighed. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“It’s fine,” I said softly. “It was overdue.”

By the time I got back to the Miller house, night had fallen. I wanted silence.But I walked into chaos.

Melissa stood in the living room, arms crossed, eyes blazing. My father was there too, red-faced, furious.

“How could you?” Melissa spat. “Anna is in a hospital! You tricked her!”

“She was unstable,” I said calmly, setting my bag down.“She’s your sister!” my father barked.

“Yes,” I said, meeting his eyes. “And she was trying to destroy me.”

“Destroy you?” Melissa laughed bitterly. “You’re paranoid, Rose. You need that hospital more than she does.” My father stepped closer. “You’re colder than your mother ever was.”At that, something flickered inside me. " that’s not a bad thing,” I said.

I smiled faintly. “Heartless people don’t break. They just keep going.”

“You’re sick,” she said, disgusted.

My father shook his head. “What happened to you?”

I looked up at him, eyes steady.

“I learned That love is a liability,” I said simply. “And weakness is contagious.”

The room went quiet. Melissa’s lip trembled, whether from anger or fear, I couldn’t tell.

I picked up my bag again. “You all came here to shout. You got what you wanted. Now go.”

My father’s voice softened, pained. “Rose, we’re your family.”

“No,” I said, walking toward the stairs. “You were my family. Now you’re just familiar.”

Melissa’s voice broke. “You’re cruel.”

I turned back once, my face unreadable. “Cruelty is honesty without the sugar.”

Then I went upstairs, leaving their voices to die in the hall.

In my room, the air was cold. I stood by the window, staring at my reflection in the glass, the woman staring back was not fragile. Her eyes were quiet, detached, like someone who’d buried her emotions deep enough that no one could dig them up again.

Somewhere downstairs, I could still hear my father’s voice, muffled, desperate. Melissa crying. But none of it reached me.

I sat on the edge of the bed and whispered to myself,

“Never again.”

I leaned back, closed my eyes, and felt nothing.