---- Chapter 4 Jody POV: | spent three days in the hospital recovering from the concussion and the severe allergic reaction. Three days of an endless, silent rotation of nurses and IV drips. Arthur never came back. When | was finally discharged, | took a taxi back to the mansion, my leg aching and my heart numb. When | walked into our bedroom, | stopped dead. My things were gone. My books were missing from the nightstand. My favorite throw blanket was gone from the armchair. The closet stood half- empty, all of my clothes vanished. In their place hung Claudia ' s dresses, their bright, garish colors an insult to my eyes. "Looking for something?" Claudia' s voice came from the doorway. She was leaning against the frame, dressed in a silk nightgown that was practically transparent. She was holding a cup of tea, looking completely at home. "Where are my things?" | asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Oh, that old stuff?" She waved a dismissive hand. "I had the maids throw it out. It was cluttering up the place. Besides," ---- she added, taking a delicate sip of her tea, "Arthur said you wouldn't be needing it anymore." She looked me up and down, a smug smile playing on her lips. "You know, for someone who almost died from an allergic reaction, you have a surprising amount of color in your cheeks. | was worried you' d look all pale and washed out." The casual cruelty of her words finally broke through my numbness. She had done it on purpose. She had tried to kill me, or at the very least, hurt me badly. And she was admitting it, gloating about it. "Why?" | asked, the single word filled with all the pain and confusion | felt. "Why are you doing this?" She shrugged, feigning innocence. "Doing what, Jody? I' m just taking care of my brother. And you... well, you' re just in the way." | didn' t have the strength to fight her. Not anymore. | turned away from her and walked stiffly to the guest room that had become my sanctuary. Just as | reached the door, Arthur walked up the stairs. He saw me but directed his words to Claudia. "The movers are here. They' Il have your things moved into the master bedroom by this evening." He was officially moving her in. Into our room. Into our bed. | didn' t look at him. | couldn' t. | walked into the guest room ---- and closed the door, the click of the latch echoing the final closing of a door in my heart. The room, once a place of refuge, now felt like a cage. The beautiful furniture, the expensive art on the walls-it all felt suffocating. | pulled my last remaining suitcase from the closet and began to pack the few items that were left of my life in this house. A few changes of clothes, my laptop, my research papers. As | packed, my hands brushed against a small, velvet box. Inside was a simple silver locket Arthur had given me on our first anniversary. | opened it. On one side was a picture of us, smiling and happy. On the other, a tiny, intricately engraved star. He said it was because | was his North Star, the one who guided him. | stared at the picture, at the man | thought | knew, and felt a fresh wave of grief. But as | looked around the room, | noticed something else. The painting on the wall was one Claudia had admired. The vase on the dresser was a gift she had picked out for me. Even the damn throw pillows on the bed had been chosen by her, on a shopping trip she' d insisted on joining. My things weren' t my things. My life wasn' t my life. | had been living in a world curated by Claudia, a world where | was just a guest, a temporary fixture. With a sense of finality, | closed the locket and tossed it into the suitcase. None of it mattered anymore. | was leaving. ---- Arthur appeared in the doorway, a frown on his face. "What are you doing?" "Cleaning out some old things | don' t need anymore," | said without looking at him. "Don' t bother," he said, his voice casual. "I' Il buy you new things. We can go shopping tomorrow. Claudia can come, she has great taste." He still didn' t get it. He never would. "Okay," | said, my voice flat. | didn' t even glance in his direction. Claudia appeared behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Let' s go pick out my things first, Arthur. My needs are more urgent." "Alright, alright," he laughed, squeezing her hand She looked over his shoulder at me, a triumphant smirk on her face. "You don' t mind, do you, Jody?" "No," | said, my voice empty. "I don't mind at all. You two go on ahead. |' Il meet you downstairs for dinner." | turned my back on them and continued packing, a single, silent tear tracing a path down my cheek. Arthur hesitated for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He felt it, the shift in the air, the coldness where there ---- used to be warmth. But he couldn't name it. He couldn' t understand that he had finally, irrevocably, broken me.