Chapter 4

The interruption was dismissed quickly.

A clumsy orderly, a dropped dinner tray.

Ashley and Victoria exchanged a look, then Ashley smiled thinly at the nurse through the crack in the door.

"He was just having a bad dream. We calmed him."

The nurse, reassured, moved on.

They turned back to Ethan, their expressions unreadable in the dim light.

The immediate threat had passed, but the air remained thick with menace.

They left without another word.

In the morning, Ethan examined the new bruises blooming on his arms and legs.

Dark, ugly marks against his pale skin.

Physical proof of their late-night visit.

He felt a cold, detached confirmation of their cruelty.

There were no limits to what they would do.

Ashley arrived later, all bright smiles and false cheer.

"You look a bit rough, Ethan. Did you sleep badly? Toss and turn?"

Her eyes flickered to a bruise on his forearm, visible below his sleeve.

A flimsy excuse. An insult to his intelligence.

He said nothing, just stared at her.

Victoria swept in, a whirlwind of forced enthusiasm.

"Good morning, sleepyhead! Guess what? We're going to plan something wonderful for you!"

She tried to divert his attention, to paper over the night's events.

"A trip! Once you're a bit stronger. The family yacht! Just us. Sunshine, sea air... it'll do you a world of good."

A lavish celebration. A grand gesture of their "care."

Ethan felt a chill. The family yacht. It was old, known for engine problems.

"No," he said, his voice flat.

He rejected their false generosity, the bitterness a taste in his mouth.

"Oh, don't be like that, Ethan," Ashley cajoled. "It'll be fun! A few days of reflection, peace and quiet."

Victoria chimed in, "We insist! It's all arranged."

Their persistence was suffocating. They wouldn't take no for an answer.

He knew it was pointless to argue.

In the following days, Ethan noticed their frequent absences.

Ashley, Victoria, and Jason.

They'd be gone for hours, sometimes entire afternoons.

Vague excuses about Miller Holdings business, or Jason needing support for "prize-related commitments."

Suspicion grew, a gnawing unease in his gut.

What were they planning now?

One evening, Victoria left her phone on his bedside table while she went to "fetch him a special dessert."

It lit up with a notification. A photo.

Curiosity, or perhaps a premonition, made him reach for it.

His fingers fumbled with the screen, his movements clumsy and painful.

It was Victoria's social media. Open.

A stream of pictures.

Ashley, Victoria, and Jason.

Laughing, posing on a sun-drenched deck.

Not the old family yacht. This was a sleek, modern charter, gleaming white.

Champagne flutes, gourmet food, Jason looking smug and triumphant.

The location tag: "Pre-celebratory getaway! So proud of our Jay!"

The date stamp: Three days ago.

While Ethan was here, trapped in this sterile room, they were celebrating Jason's stolen victory.

The "gift" of the family yacht trip for him suddenly felt like a cruel joke, a discard.

Devastation hit him, a fresh wave of profound hurt.

They hadn't just betrayed him. They were reveling in it.

He felt tears sting his eyes, hot and shameful.

He swiped, and more photos appeared. Jason wearing Ethan's favorite cashmere sweater, one Ashley had given Ethan last Christmas. Victoria leaning into Jason, her smile intimate.

Emotional numbness began to creep in, a defense against the overwhelming pain.

He dropped the phone as if it burned him.

The day of the "trip" arrived.

They had arranged a small party at the rehab facility, a "send-off."

It quickly became a showcase for Jason.

He was there, basking in the attention, accepting congratulations from staff who had been fed the story of his "hard-earned" prize.

Ethan sat in his wheelchair, a spectator at his own humiliation.

Alienated. Alone.

Suddenly, the ground trembled.

A low rumble, growing louder.

The building shook violently.

Panic erupted.

Screams. Alarms blared.

"Earthquake!" someone yelled.

Chaos.

Dust filled the air. Lights flickered and died.

The building groaned, a terrifying sound.

Ashley and Victoria reacted instantly.

Their eyes met, a silent communication.

Then, they both turned to Jason.

"Jason! Are you okay?" Ashley cried, rushing to his side.

Victoria was right behind her.

They grabbed Jason, pulling him towards the emergency exit.

Abandoning Ethan.

He watched them go, his heart a cold, heavy stone in his chest.

Ultimate betrayal. Utter abandonment.

A large ceiling panel crashed down near him, showering him with debris.

Pain flared in his shoulder.

He was trapped, his wheelchair pinned by a fallen beam.

Helpless. Fear, stark and primal, clawed at him.

Through the dust and chaos, he saw Ashley glance back.

Her eyes met his for a fleeting second.

He saw no concern. No regret.

Only a cold, hard calculation.

Then, she turned and disappeared with Jason and Victoria.

Her decision was clear. Jason's safety, above all else.

Even if it meant leaving her brother to die.