Chapter 26 I Am Just Here to Comfort Caroline
Celeste's hand froze in midair. The concern vanished from her face, replaced by obvious irritation.
She let out a cold laugh. "Caroline, don't be ungrateful. I'm throwing you a lifeline only out of pity. You think you're still that high-society darling? That brilliant psychologist everyone admired?"
"You're nothing now. Just a pile of disgusting wreckage. You should count yourself lucky anyone still has a use for you."
Every word was a barbed lash, striking directly at Caroline's already shattered heart.
And now Celeste was twisting the knife.
"Maybe if Alex sees that face of yours—so much like Edith's but so pathetic—he'll take pity on you. Maybe he'll stop torturing you."
The moment those words left her mouth, five years of humiliation, pain, and despair exploded inside Caroline.
She could endure Celeste's fake concern. She could endure the manipulation. But what she couldn't endure was this attempt to erase the last shred of her humanity.
And she sure as hell couldn't stand Celeste desecrating Edith's memory.
"Get out!" Caroline's voice tore from her throat in a raw scream.
Celeste blinked, clearly not expecting her to have any fight left. Then she sneered. "Get out? You think you have the right to say that? You're the one who should leave—the woman who killed her own sister, stole her husband, and now isn't even fit to be a replacement."
"I said get out!" Caroline's voice rose.
She didn't know where the strength came from, but she pushed herself up on her elbows, sitting upright. The dead look in her eyes was gone, replaced by blazing fury as she stared Celeste down.
Celeste flinched, taking an involuntary step back. But the shock quickly turned to rage.
The sweet mask cracked completely, revealing pure malice underneath.
"Caroline, who do you think you're fooling with this act? Your sister wasn't even cold in the ground before you were trying to crawl into Alexander's bed! Using that face—the same face as hers—to seduce him, to satisfy your sick desires! And now you're playing the saint in front of me? You're nothing but a—"
"Shut up!" Caroline cut her off sharply.
Her chest heaved, pulling at the burns. Her face went even paler, but the fire in her eyes only burned brighter.
"You don't know anything! You know nothing! You're just someone who looks like Edith and copies her—a parasite who wants everything she had!"
That hit a nerve.
Celeste's expression darkened instantly. Her gaze locked onto Caroline, ice-cold. "Parasite? Look around! Who's the one thrown out of her own family? Who's the one everyone despises?
"I'm the one who replaced you—in the Neville family, in Alexander's heart! You're not even worthy of being my shadow!"
She stepped closer, looming over Caroline's weak form on the bed, her voice rising to a shrill pitch.
"You really think Alexander keeps you around because he still loves you? Wake up! He lets you live so he can watch you suffer. Every time he sees you in pain, it eases his guilt over Edith—just a little. You exist to be his punishment. His self-flagellation. When you're dead, he'll probably feel dirty for even touching you."
Caroline let out a low, guttural sound.
Yes. A tool. A replacement. An instrument of self-punishment.
She'd always known.
But hearing it spoken so plainly, so viciously, from Celeste's mouth—it was unbearable.
Her sanity snapped.
On the bedside table, the nurse's tray caught her eye. She reached for it, wanting to hurl it—
But Celeste was faster.
She saw what Caroline was going for and lunged forward, grabbing the medicine bottle first.
"What are you doing?!" Caroline's hand shot out, a terrible premonition flooding her.
Celeste smiled coldly. Then she smashed the bottle onto the floor.
Glass exploded across the room.
The next second, she threw herself down hard.
"Ah—!" Celeste screamed.
Caroline's eyes went wide. Blood was seeping from Celeste's palm.
No. No, that's not what happened.
She hadn't done anything. Celeste had thrown the bottle herself—she was framing her.
But there was so much blood. It kept coming, pooling on the floor, spreading toward Caroline's feet.
She froze.
The white hospital walls seemed to fade, turning into the dim, chaotic docks. The floor became wet, filthy concrete.
That growing pool of blood began to overlap with another one from her memories—larger, more desperate, more final…
"Edith…" Caroline's lips trembled, the name barely a whisper.
She stared at the blood on the floor. Then slowly, she raised her shaking hands.
Clean skin. Old scars. Bandages. No blood.
But why… why could she smell it again? Why could she hear Edith's last weak voice—
"Caroline… run…"
"Caroline… I'm so cold…"
Celeste's face, contorted in pain, began to distort against the backdrop of blood. It morphed into another face—pale, beautiful, lifeless…
The door slammed open.
Caroline turned. Alexander stood in the doorway.
He must have heard the commotion and rushed in.
The scene that greeted him was chaos—shattered glass, spilled water, and in the center of it all, Celeste sitting on the floor, holding up her bleeding hand, tears streaming down her face.
Finally, his gaze landed on Caroline, sitting on the bed with her hands stretched out in front of her.
Celeste was the first to react.
"Alex…" Her voice was small, broken. Tears rolled down her cheeks one by one.
"Alex, help me… my hand hurts so much. I was just trying to comfort her, telling her not to be like this, that Edith would be sad seeing her this way. I don't know why she…"
Alexander's expression grew darker with every word.
"You hurt her." His voice was low, teeth clenched.
Caroline jerked as if struck. She snapped back to reality.
She opened her mouth to explain, but her throat was too dry. No sound came out.
She wanted to shake her head, but her neck felt like it was made of lead.
All she could do was stare at Alexander, as if accepting his judgment.
"Edith's dead. And you want to reenact the past? You won't even leave Celeste alone?"