---- Chapter 3 Jody POV: The mall was decorated for the holidays, a giant, glittering Christmas tree dominating the central court. Tacky, oversized ornaments hung from the ceiling, swaying gently in the air- conditioned breeze. "Oh, Arthur, let' s take a picture!" Claudia squealed, pulling him toward the tree. She shoved her phone into my hand. "Jody, be a dear and get a good one for us." She posed, leaning into Arthur, her hand possessively on his chest. He smiled down at her, his arm instinctively wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer. They looked like a perfect, happy couple. A knife twisted in my gut. | raised the phone, my hands trembling slightly. Through the screen, | saw them, a portrait of my own personal hell. My finger hovered over the capture button. Then, there was a terrible creaking sound from above. | looked up just in time to see one of the giant, glittering ornaments-a massive, ridiculous snowflake-break free from its cable. It swung wildly for a moment before plummeting directly towards us. ---- Everything happened in slow motion. | saw the terror on Claudia's face. | saw Arthur's eyes widen. And | saw him react without a single thought. He shoved Claudia out of the way, his body shielding hers, his only concern her safety. He didn't even look at me. | was standing right next to them, but it was as if | didn't exist. There was no time to move, no time to even scream. The world exploded in a shower of plastic, glitter, and excruciating pain as the massive decoration crashed down on top of me. My leg buckled, a searing agony shooting up from my ankle. My head hit the polished marble floor with a sickening crack. The last thing | saw before the darkness swallowed me was Arthur, kneeling beside a perfectly fine Claudia, his face etched with worry for her. Not for me. Tears streamed from my eyes, hot against my cold skin. But | wasn't crying from the pain. | was crying because in that split second, | had my answer. He would never choose me. He would let me die to save her from a scratch. My consciousness flickered. | remember the chaos, the shouting, the wail of a siren. | woke up briefly in the back of an ambulance, a paramedic trying to put an oxygen mask on my face. "We need to get her to a VIP room immediately, severe ---- concussion and a possible fracture," he was yelling into a radio. "Negative," a voice crackled back. "The VIP floor is on lockdown. Mr. Lowery' s orders. His sister was frightened by the accident and needs absolute quiet to rest." The irony was so thick | could have choked on it. | was lying in an ambulance, seriously injured, but | couldn' t get a room in the hospital-his hospital-because his precious Claudia was frightened. The pain was a living thing, a monster clawing at me from the inside. | passed out again. When | finally woke up for good, | was in a standard, crowded ward, the curtain around my bed offering little privacy. A dull, throbbing ache radiated from my head, and my leg was encased in a heavy cast. Hours passed. Doctors and nurses came and went. But Arthur didn't appear. It was nearly midnight when he finally walked in, his expensive suit slightly wrinkled. He rushed to my bedside, his face a mask of concern. "Jody. Oh, god, Jody, are you okay?" he asked, reaching for my hand. | pulled it away. "I'm fine," | said, my voice toneless. ---- "I'm so, so sorry. | was with Claudia. She was in shock. The doctors wanted to keep her for observation." Of course. She was in shock. | was the one who got hit by a two-hundred-pound piece of plastic, but she was the one who needed him. | didn't have the energy to argue. | just stared at the ceiling. A moment later, the curtain was pulled back and Claudia herself appeared. She looked perfectly fine, her cheeks rosy, holding a container of soup. "| brought you something to eat," she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "You must be starving." She placed the soup on my bedside table. It was a creamy seafood chowder, the smell rich and inviting. It was my favorite. It also contained shellfish, which | was deathly allergic to. A single bite could send me into anaphylactic shock. She knew. Of course, she knew. | remembered telling her about my allergy once, years ago, after a close call at a restaurant. She had looked at me with wide, innocent eyes and said she would never forget. "| don' t want it," | said. Claudia' s face fell into a perfect pout. "Oh, Jody. Don' t you like it? | had the chef make it especially for you." "She' s just tired, Claudia," Arthur said, ever her defender. He ---- picked up the spoon. "Come on, Jody. You need to eat something. Just one bite." He scooped up a spoonful of the chowder and brought it to my lips. His eyes were pleading. He thought this was a romantic gesture, a sign of his care. He had no idea he was trying to poison me. "No," | said, turning my head away. "Jody, don' t be difficult," he insisted, his voice hardening. "Claudia went to a lot of trouble for this." He held the spoon to my lips again, more forcefully this time. | had no choice. | opened my mouth and let the creamy, deadly liquid slide down my throat. Immediately, my throat started to itch. My airway began to close. Panic seized me. | gasped for breath, shoving the bowl away. It flew from Arthur's hand, crashing to the floor and splattering soup everywhere. A small ceramic shard flew up and nicked Claudia' s arm. "Ow!" she cried out, clutching her arm as if she' d been stabbed. A tiny bead of blood welled up on her skin. Arthur' s attention snapped to her instantly. "Claudia! Are you okay?" He cradled her arm, examining the minuscule cut with frantic concern. He then turned to me, his face a thundercloud of fury. His eyes were cold, devoid of any warmth, any love | had ever imagined was there. ---- "What the hell is wrong with you, Jody?" he roared, his voice echoing in the quiet ward. "Apologize to her. Now." "She... she tried to..." | wheezed, my throat closing up, my skin breaking out in angry, red hives. | couldn' t get the words out. "Don' t blame Jody, Arthur," Claudia whimpered, hiding behind him. "She didn' t mean it. She' s just upset." "Upset? She could have seriously hurt you!" he bellowed. He pointed a trembling finger at me. "Apologize." | tried to explain, to tell him about the allergy, but my voice was gone. All | could do was shake my head, tears of frustration and terror streaming down my face "| said, apologize!" he shouted again, his voice cracking with rage. The injustice of it all was a physical weight, pressing down on me, crushing me. | was having a severe allergic reaction, and he was screaming at me to apologize for getting a drop of blood on the woman who had intentionally poisoned me. With the last of my strength, | managed to croak out a single, broken word. "Sorry." A tear escaped and traced a path through the red blotches on my cheek. The itching was unbearable. Black spots danced in my vision. The last thing | heard before | passed out was Arthur' s furious voice, still demanding | show his precious Claudia some respect.