---- Chapter 17 "Mom, Dad, Fitz," Ericka said, her voice tight with a confusion that Caleb knew would soon curdle into hurt. "What is this? Who is she?" "This is Hailie," my mother said brightly, completely oblivious to the tension. "She's been living with us. She's like a daughter to us!" "Your new sister!" my father added with a hearty laugh. Ericka's face fell. The hurt was already there, a shadow in her eyes. She pulled her hand from Caleb's. "A new sister?" she repeated, her voice dangerously quiet. Hailie, ever the actress, stepped forward. "Ericka, | know this is a shock. But | hope we can be friends." She reached for Ericka's hand. "Don't touch me," Ericka said, recoiling. The scene was playing out exactly as it had in his memory. The rejection, the hurt, the brewing storm. "Ericka, that's rude!" Fitzgerald snapped. "Hailie has been a godsend to this family!" "| don't care," Ericka said, her chin lifting in a gesture of ---- defiance that Caleb now recognized as a desperate attempt to hold her ground. "| want her gone." Caleb braced himself for the explosion. For his past self's righteous anger, for Fitz's accusations, for his parents ' disappointment. But this time, he was here. He stepped forward, putting a protective arm around Ericka's shoulders. "She's right," he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. Everyone stared at him in shock. "What?" Fitzgerald sputtered. "Ericka just woke up from a five-year coma," Caleb said, his gaze sweeping over their stunned faces. "She is disoriented and overwhelmed. The last thing she needs is to come home to a stranger living in her house and being called her 'new sister'. It's insensitive and cruel He looked directly at Hailie, his eyes cold as ice. "You will leave. Now. Hailie's jaw dropped. This was not in her script. "But... but | have nowhere to go," she whimpered, her eyes welling with tears. ---- "That is not my problem," Caleb said. He took out his wallet, pulled out a black credit card, and handed it to Fitzgerald. "Find her a five-star hotel. Pay for a year in advance. Then find her a permanent residence. Spare no expense. But get her out of our lives." He turned back to my parents. "And you," he said, his voice laced with a disappointment so profound it was almost pity. "You should be ashamed of yourselves. Your daughter, who sacrificed her health for this family, wakes up, and your first thought is to force another child on her? You will go home, and you will think long and hard about who your real family is." Without another word, he guided a stunned and silent Ericka out of the room, leaving a scene of chaos and confusion in his wake. In the car, Ericka started to cry, quiet, heartbroken sobs. "I don't understand, Caleb. It's like they replaced me." "| know," he said, his heart aching for her. He pulled her into his arms. "I'm so sorry, Ericka. | promise, | will make it right." He took her not to the family home, but to his own villa. The one that had been her prison. He was determined to fill it with new, happy memories. He had spent the morning preparing. The house was filled with her favorite flowers. Her favorite music was playing softly. There were candles and rose petals and a path of balloons leading to the living room. ---- In the center of the room, he had spelled out "Marry Me?" in candles. He got down on one knee. "Ericka Reid," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "l have been a fool. | have taken you for granted. But | know now that a life without you is not a life at all. | will spend every day for the rest of my life making you happy, protecting you, loving you. Will you marry me?" Tears streamed down Ericka's face, but this time, they were tears of joy. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, Caleb, I'll marry you." He slipped the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit. He felt a surge of triumphant hope. He had changed it. He had fixed it. The future was a blank page, and he would write a new story for them. A happy one.