Mother, are you okay?" I asked, praying it was nothing related to me and Victor.
Mother was sick and stress was the last thing she needed.
The absolute last thing she needed was for her rebellious little daughter to finally send her to an early grave with news like that.
She didn't answer.
She gently pulled me upstairs, her grip firm but trembling slightly. She wasn't dramatic. That was the scary part. She was quiet.
Too quiet.
We climbed the stairs slowly. Each step felt louder than the music downstairs. My mind ran wild.
What if that fool Robert really did say something this time?
What if someone saw something?
What if—
Oh my guilt.
My guilt was killing me.
We got to my door and she paused, looking at it like she wasn't sure.
"This is your room, right?" she asked softly.
"Yes," I answered quickly, pushing the door open and signaling her to enter.
The door closed behind us with a soft click that felt louder than it should have.
I sat on the bed immediately, bracing myself. Hoping for the worst. Preparing to deny everything.
She stood for a moment before slowly lowering herself into the chair opposite me.
Then—
"Alyssa… your sister isn't well," she began.
My eyes widened, but I didn't say anything.
She continued, her voice shaky now.
"This is unlike her. You know Elena more than anyone. She never loses control. She has never lost control a day in her life."
Of course I know her.
Why didn't I think of this?
Your perfect, sweet daughter.
Is that why you pulled me out of the party? I asked bitterly, the words slipping out before I could soften them.
The tears in her eyes finally fell.
That caught me off guard.
"I went to her room," Mother said, her voice cracking. "She refused to tell me anything. Do you know what might be wrong?"
I rolled my eyes.
Why should I know?
"But she's your sister," she snapped suddenly, emotion flashing through her tone. "She always looks out for you. Is it such a bad thing that you should worry about your sister?"
I laughed softly — but there was no humor in it.
"I've had worse times and I don't see you crying, Mom. You don't get all hysterical because I get tipsy and shed a little tear."
The air shifted.
She inhaled sharply.
Then she softened.
It was always like that. She would flare for Elena. Then calm down for me.
"Go to your sister, Lys," she said quietly, dabbing her cheeks with her handkerchief. "Find out what's wrong."
She didn't wait for a reply.
She stood and left immediately.
The door shut again.
Then silence.
I rolled my eyes and fell back onto the bed.
A little tear slid down my face.
But this time I rubbed it off quickly.
Yes.
Poor Lys.
Always the villain.
Always the selfish one.
Always the dramatic one.
I stared at the ceiling for a second longer before sitting up.
Fine.
Let's go see the perfect sister.
I walked down the hallway toward Elena's room.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
I knocked gently.
The door opened almost immediately.
It was Lily.
Her little eyes looked sleepy but curious.
"Hey now, little one," I hushed softly, bending slightly. "I need to talk to mummy."
She nodded and stepped aside.
Elena was on the bed.
Sitting upright.
Her wedding picture with Victor caught my eye immediately.
She turnedd when she saw me.
"Hi, little sis," she said softly.
Her voice wasn't broken. That caught me off guard.
I walked over and sat beside her.
I held her hands.
They were warm. Steady.
"Mum is worried sick about you," I said. "How are you doing?"
She gave a small smile.
"Fine, darling. I am just a loser," she said lightly.
Of all the days I had to get emotional, it had to be on my daughter's birthday. I am such a fool."
She covered her face with both hands.
Something inside me tightened.
What was happening to her?
This wasn't the version of my sister I knew.
She never called herself names.
She never admitted weakness.
She was always in control.
"What's wrong?" I asked, gently sliding her hair behind her ear.
Hope you've finally gotten rid of that silly idea that Victor has another woman, I added, trying to sound casual while guilt burned in my throat.
She let out a shocking laugh.
Not loud.
But sharp.
It startled me.
Then she went silent.
Slowly, she lowered her hands and stared right into my eyes.
"Have you ever betrayed someone, Lys?" she asked quietly.
My throat dried instantly.
I gulped.
"W-why would you ask that?" I stammered, pulling my hands from hers without thinking.
My palms suddenly felt exposed.
"No reason," she said smoothly. "You're way too innocent."
She reached forward and patted my head like I was a child.
"The world is messed up," she added calmly.
I forced a laugh that didn't sound like mine.
"Is this about Victor?" I managed to ask.
"Yes," she answered.
She adjusted her gown and stood up slowly.
"I confronted him."
My heart stopped.
"And… and what did he say?" I asked, this time genuinely interested.
But also thinking of a hundred ways to disappear.
Run.
Confess.
Lie.
Deny.
Cry.
She walked toward the window, her back now facing me.
The moonlight fell against her shoulders.
"He denied it," she said simply.
Relief rushed through me so fast I almost swayed.
"But," she continued.
My stomach dropped again.
"He looked angry."
I stayed silent.
"He asked me why I would even think such a thing. He said I was being paranoid.
She turned to look at me.
"Do I look paranoid to you, Lys?"
Her eyes were steady.
Searching.
Testing.
I swallowed.
"No," I answered carefully.
She nodded slowly.
"I told him I felt distant from him. That he doesn't look at me the same anymore."
Her gaze lingered on my face.
"And do you think that's possible?"
My pulse pounded in my ears.
I forced myself to breathe normally.
"Marriages go through phases," I said softly. "You've been stressed. The company. The guests. Maybe you're just overwhelmed."
She walked closer.
Too close.
"You always defend him," she observed.
"I'm just being logical," I replied quickly.
She studied me.
Then suddenly—
She smiled.
It wasn't sad.
It wasn't broken.
It was small.
Measured.
"You're such a good sister," she said quietly.
And somehow…
That felt worse.