Am I A Good Girl novel Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital bed.

I rolled my gaze toward the clock.

Now, I had six hours left.

My childhood friend, Rosalie Avila, sat beside me, eyes swollen and red.

Back then, she’d begged me not to marry Kenneth. She’d said he wasn’t worth my trust and love.

I hadn’t listened. We had fought so bitterly that she didn’t even show up to my wedding.

I knew I had no right to drag her back into my mess now.

But she was the only person left in the world I could still trust.

“What the hell happened to you?” Her voice cracked. “Weren’t you doing so well after you married Kenneth?

“Weren’t you enjoying your perfect little family? So how did it turn into this? Why are the doctors telling me your organs are shutting down?”

With the respirator covering my mouth, I could only smile back at her.

When we were kids, we’d made a pact: whoever reached the end first, the other would handle everything-no matter what.

I could no longer speak. I lifted a trembling hand and pointed at my bag.

Rosalie pulled out the stack of documents.

She scanned them quickly and silently nodded. Then, she tucked them into her own bag.

Our unspoken bond was still there. We still had the kind of understanding that didn’t need words.

There were three hours left.

I refused further resuscitation.

After another blackout, I surfaced one last time.

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Rosalie held her phone in front of me. A message from Catherine glowed on the screen. “Angelique, I win. All your things are mine now.

“You really thought you could compete with me? Well, you can only blame yourself for being so useless. Your parents just love me more.

“Just disappear quietly from our life, okay? I’ll take excellent care of your parents, your husband, and your sweet little girl.”

Rosalie read it and broke down, pacing the room and cursing under her breath in a fit of rage.

I could only manage a tired, inward laugh.

My only true regret in life was asking my father to help Catherine all those years ago.

I remember finding her at a dilapidated orphanage during a school volunteer trip.

It was a day of biting wind and heavy snow.

All the other children were huddled inside for warmth, but Catherine was in the backyard, scavenging through a trash can for scraps of meat left on discarded bones.

I couldn’t bear the sight of it, so I begged my father to help her.

After that, we became inseparable, best friends who told each other everything.

The next year, she transferred into my class and won everyone’s hearts with her talent and charm.

Every time someone praised her, pride swelled in my chest.

But soon, things started to shift.

My friends drifted away, drawn to her instead.

Boys who liked me suddenly lost interest and started fawning over her.

Eventually, even my parents began insisting she stay over, then live with us, and finally, they gave her half of my bedroom.

I was too young, too trusting, and too slow to see the pattern.

I didn’t realize that Catherine’s greatest talent was stealing everything she could from me while basking in the praise.

By the time I realized something was wrong, my room was gone, my place in my family erased, and my life quietly stolen.

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09:10

I once asked Catherine why she did it. Her answer chilled me to the bone. “Angelique, you thought I’d be grateful? Please, why would I thank you?

“I’ve always hated how you strutted around in front of me. I’m going to take everything you have.

“I want to see your face when you have nothing left but despair.”

***

I’d thought I could get rid of her.

I’d thought I could make my parents and Kenneth see her for who she was.

I was too naive.

I’d underestimated her skill, and I’d wildly underestimated how much my parents and Kenneth actually cared about her.

I had lost everything.

Now, I had only nine minutes left.

My consciousness blurred, vision dimming at the edges.

But I still saw the last notification on the phone in Rosalie’s hand. It was a message from my mother. “Angie, have someone paint the walls of that house pink in the next few days. Cathy loves pink.

“Also, she’s being discharged in two weeks. Make sure you clear out some of your things before then; Catherine needs the space for her belongings!”

Even in my last moments, my mother’s thoughts were only for Catherine.

I guess I truly didn’t matter to her.

That was fine. I could let it go.

Rosalie was crying, shouting something close to my ear, but I could no longer hear her.

I’d fought for so many years. Now I was just… tired.

Finally, I could rest.

On November 24th, Angelique passed away in a Seattle hospital. She was only 29 years old when she died.

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