Her fifth daughter died, so she deleted his bloodline. novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2

James’s eyes flickered with surprise, but before he could respond, Vicky came over. “James, your mother wants her to go today.”

His hands clenched into fists, but before he could speak, I pushed through the pain and struggled to put on my coat. “It’s fine. I’ll go now.”

“Evelyn…” He reached for me, but I pulled away.

Vicky started to sniffle. “James, are you blaming me for being too hard on her? Do you feel sorry for her?”

He immediately wrapped his arms around her, his gaze so tender it seemed to overflow. “Of course not. I know how hard things are for you too. Don’t think that way. You’re still the most important person to me. I’m just worried Evelyn might make things difficult for you.”

Once, I’d been in love with him, and words like that would’ve cut me deep. But by now, I was used to it. They couldn’t hurt me anymore.

At St. Clare‘s Chapel, a light rain began to fall. The blood seeping from my body mixed with the rainwater, turning the entire staircase a vivid red. With each step I knelt on, it felt like my wounds were being ripped open again. I couldn’t even stand. But I knew that with every step I completed, I was one step closer to going home.

The fog grew thicker until I couldn’t see anymore and then I was pulled into a warm embrace.

When I woke up again, I was in bed, and James was holding my hand. “There you are. I heard you mumbling something about going home earlier. You missing your folks?”

He paused, studying my face. “Look, you’re in rough shape. If you want to see your parents, they’ll be at Vicky’s thing tomorrow. I can have them stick around after, keep you company.”

His voice was gentle, but I knew he didn’t actually want me to see them. If he wanted me to, he wouldn’t have asked. He was just afraid it would upset Vicky.

The truth was, my original body was the legitimate daughter of the Sinclair family from the military district, but I’d been switched at birth and only found again seven years ago when they brought me back from the countryside.

Vicky was the one they’d raised and loved for over a decade. When the real daughter came back, Vicky threw such a fit she threatened suicide.

The two of them fell into the water together, and the original body drowned, right when I happened to transmigrate in after dying from a sudden heart attack.

After that, my parents kept me at arm’s length.

I gave him a perfunctory nod.

…

The next morning, the maid caked on foundation, three layers, just to make me look like I wasn’t already half-dead.

At the party, Vicky was laughing and chatting with my parents. James’s gaze never left her, soft and affectionate. Everyone at the base knew how to play the social game, they saw I’d been punished the day before, so no one bothered talking to me.

I didn’t mind. I’d just taken a sip of wine when suddenly, from across the room, Vicky started retching. I looked up to see her collapse to the floor, vomiting blood in thick spurts.

James’s eyes went red with panic. “Get the medics!”

But even after five or six military doctors examined her, none of them could find anything wrong. James was furious. That’s when some spiritual consultant the Sinclairs brought in stepped forward, holding what looked like an old divining rod.

“I did a reading last night,” he announced. “There’s something dark hanging over this house. Someone in the Harrington household is working against Miss Vicky.”