The Fake Heiress Had Me Killed

Chapter 4 Being Burned

Two nurses clamped me down onto the chair as an icy needle sank into my vein. I stopped struggling. I knew it was a long shot; without a blood relation, the chances of a match were slim to none.

Sure enough, the results came swiftly. No match.

Harrison had already vanished without a trace. With no phone and legs that refused to cooperate, I had no choice but to sit on the clinic's front steps, waiting until nightfall. He never came for me. Passersby flinched like I was a leper at the sight of my disfigured face, bolting away as if I carried a curse.

In the end, it was a kind-hearted cleaning lady from the clinic who lent me her phone to call home.

The driver arrived with a face full of disdain. "Damn this luck, dragged out in the dead of night to fetch a cripple. I'll never get why the master and mistress haven't shoved you into some institution yet."

By the time I finally made it back, not a single light burned in the mansion. Limping on my dead leg, I dragged myself to my room, one agonizing step at a time. I'd barely closed my eyes when the door burst open.

Sierra staggered in, reeking of alcohol, a bundle of sparklers clutched in her hand and a smirk plastered across her face. "Maisie, heard you went for a kidney match today? Too bad you're still useless."

She leaned over my bed, tapping the sparklers against my cheek with mocking precision. "Maisie, overjoyed to cheat death again?"

"Then again, what can you expect from a lost cause not worth the dirt under my shoe?" she sneered. "Harrison promised, once I graduate, Mom and Dad will transfer their shares to me. Then I'll be Veridia City's legit heiress, worth hundreds of millions!"

She dissolved into drunken giggles, her eyes glazed with triumph. "And you? You'll rot in this moldy corner, forever a pathetic, whimpering mutt!"

With that, she flung the sparklers at my face. The sparklers arced through the air as she stumbled out, oblivious to the embers that ignited the bedsheet the moment she turned.

Flames erupted, devouring everything in their path. Thick smoke choked the air, searing my lungs.

Suddenly, I was eighteen again, trapped in that same suffocating nightmare.

Panic clawed at my throat, dragging me under.

I didn't want to die! I couldn't stomach going through that nightmare again.

I desperately crawled toward the door, but my severed tendons made each movement excruciating.

Just as the suffocating smoke was about to consume me, the door splintered open. A figure charged through the flames, silhouetted against the hellish glow. For one heart-stopping moment, I thought Harrison had come to save me.

But his gaze swept right past me. He lunged for the corner, snatching up the electronic keyboard instead. That same keyboard, Sierra's prized possession, unexplainably placed in my room weeks ago. As he passed me, he hesitated. Firelight carved his face into something grotesque, emotions churning in his eyes too fast to decipher.

"Maisie," he spat, "stay here and think about what you've done."

Then he was gone, plunging back into the firestorm without a backward glance. Flames licked at my skin, white-hot pain erupting across my flesh.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

So this was my worth; less than a f*****g musical instrument to him.

When I woke again, the acrid hospital stench clawed at my nostrils. Bandages swaddled my burned body like some ancient corpse.

My parents hovered by the bed, their identical expressions dripping with exhaustion.