Chapter 4
Chapter 4
The remote sat in my hand for 24 hours.
It was slick with my blood, but I couldn’t bring myself to press the button.
Twenty–four hours later, the kidnappers were dead, shot down by the SWAT team.
A group of officers stormed in, their uniforms pristine, their movements precise.
Leading the charge? My parents.
I was lying on the floor, barely clinging to life, as they rushed right past me.
They didn’t even notice me.
Didn’t even flinch when they stepped on my severed fingers scattered across the ground.
Instead, they scoured the room, their eyes darting over the corpses and the kidnappers‘ setup.
“Damn it! Where’s the video? Did the bastards hide it somewhere?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Dad muttered.
“They’re all dead now. No one can bring it up again.”
“Yeah, unless…”
Mom’s voice trailed off, and both their heads snapped toward me.
Mom knelt down next to me, her eyes flicking briefly to my mangled hand before a look of disgust crossed her face.
She reached out like she was going to touch me–maybe brush my cheek or hold me.
But instead, she just straightened the collar of my shirt.
Her face crumpled into an imitation of concern.
“Charlotte, honey, we’re so sorry we got here late. That’s on us.”
“Did you hear the kidnappers mention anything? Maybe about the video?”
“Where’d they hide it?”
I stared at her, my eyes hollow.
My right hand twitched.
If she’d cared, even just a little–if she’d asked if my hand hurt or if there was any chance of saving it–she might’ve
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noticed the remote clutched in my palm.
But she didn’t.
She and Dad scoured the room a little longer, eventually concluding there was no evidence left behind.
Relieved, they both let out a long sigh.
That’s when the medics arrived.
A few nurses rushed to me, their faces filled with tears.
One of them crouched down, speaking in a soft, soothing voice.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe now. You’ve been through so much.”
“It’s not going to hurt anymore, we promise…”
They wept as they moved around me, carefully picking up my severed fingers, even though they knew there was no way to reattach them.
They treated them like something precious, handling them with so much care.
And my parents?
They had already turned their backs and walked away.
When they lifted me onto a stretcher, one of the nurses noticed I was gripping something tightly in my hand.
She leaned in close, her voice gentle.
“Sweetheart, can you let go? Let me bandage you up. I promise it won’t hurt as much after.”
I didn’t respond. She tried to pry my fingers open, but the movement made me bleed more.
She had no choice but to stop.
Reluctantly, she called out, “Captain Quinn! Your daughter’s holding something in her hand.”
“It might be evidence–or something important. Do you want to check?”
Dad froze, his eyes narrowing.
He took a step toward me like he’d just realized something crucial.
But before he could reach me, Lila burst into the room, dressed in a flowing white gown, flanked by officers
protecting her like she was a princess.
She threw herself into Dad’s arms, sobbing like her life depended on it, as though she’d been the one kidnapped.
Dad held her, whispering reassurances until her tears subsided.
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Chapter 4
Only then did he glance back at me.
Lila’s gaze followed his, and when she saw my mangled hand, a flash of something ugly crossed her face–jealousy, feat, hate.
She shrieked, clutching Dad’s arm.
*Daddy, her hand! It’s so gross! Don’t go near her! Lila will have nightmares!”
Dad stopped in his tracks, instantly shielding her eyes and turning to lead her out of the room.
His superior stepped in, frowning.
“Quinn, that girl keeps looking at you. It’s like she wants to say something.”
“You sure you don’t know her?”
Dad didn’t even glance back.
“Never seen her before.”
The man clapped him on the shoulder.
“You better keep an eye on Lila from now on. Those kidnappers were definitely targeting her.”
Dad nodded.
“Of course. Even if something happens to me, I’d never let anything happen to my daughter.”
Mom sighed softly, murmuring, “Thank God it wasn’t Lila who got taken…”
I lay there like a dead fish, barely able to lift my eyelids as tears slipped silently down my face.
With every ounce of strength I had left, I raised my right hand toward her.
“Mom…” My voice was weak, barely audible.
This is what you’re looking for, isn’t it?
I kept it safe for you.
“Why won’t you just look?”
Do I disgust you that much?
Mom gasped, letting out a sharp scream as she recoiled, smoothing down her spotless uniform like she’d been contaminated by just being near me.
My hand froze mid–air.
“Come on, Mom!” Lila’s voice rang out, cheerful and carefree.
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“Dad said we’re going out for steak to celebrate surviving all this!”
I watched them walk away, the picture of happiness, leaving me behind like I didn’t exist.
That was it.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
My bloodied fingers twitched.
Slowly, I loosened my grip on the remote, my trembling hand moving just enough to press the button.
