He Only Saw His Stepsister

Chapter 3

Lily saw it too.

Her face drained of color in an instant.

Everyone around us started running.

Lily and I spun around at the exact same time and bolted in the same direction.

Right behind us, the wall let out a horrible, grating shriek.

Loose bricks already began raining down from above.

I ran as hard as my legs could carry me, my own thunderous heartbeat roaring in my ears, drowning out everything else.

After a few strides, I chanced a glance over my shoulder.

Lily was right behind me. She was wearing heeled shoes, and she couldn't run fast.

That's when I saw him. Daniel came barreling through the construction site entrance.

The second his eyes locked on us, they blew wide with shock.

"This way! Run this way!" he shouted.

I veered toward him, pumping my legs faster.

By now the wall couldn't hold on much longer. The entire structure swayed and shuddered like a dying beast.

I was only a few steps away from Daniel.

Five more seconds.

Then I saw it. His gaze slid right past me, over my shoulder.

It landed on the person behind me.

He didn't hesitate for a single heartbeat.

He came sprinting toward me, and for one split second I thought he was coming to pull me to safety.

But when he blew past my side, he only stirred a gust of wind against my arm.

And he kept running.

Straight for Lily.

A deep, muffled thud rumbled behind me.

I twisted my head around.

The whole wall had caved in.

The crash of falling bricks was deafening, and the ground shook under my feet.

A thick cloud of dust billowed straight toward me, choking me so bad I couldn't keep my eyes open.

When the dust cleared just enough to see through, I spotted Daniel.

He was sprawled on top of Lily, shielding her completely with his own body.

A heavy precast slab had crashed down onto his back. He gritted his teeth against the pain, blood streaming down his forehead from a cut above his brow.

Lily was huddled in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably from terror.

"Daniel! Daniel, are you okay?!" she wailed.

Daniel lifted his head.

The very first thing he checked was whether Lily was hurt.

Only after that did he lift his gaze towards me.

That look was impossible to parse.

There was guilt there, a flash of unease, and something else I couldn't even put a name to.

It was like he'd only just remembered I existed after confirming Lily was unharmed.

The wall had collapsed. If it had fallen just a little further in my direction, if those bricks had landed just a foot off from where they did, I would have been crushed under them too.

But when he ran past me, he didn't reach out to yank me along with him.

He didn't even glance at me.

I stood in the cloud of dust, my whole body shaking.

It wasn't fear that sent the tremors through me.

It was a memory that exploded to the surface.

Last winter, I'd worked overtime until well past midnight. I was riding my scooter home when a car ran a red light and clipped me. I went flying, tumbling several meters across the pavement before I stopped.

I sat there on the cold asphalt, and the first person I called was Daniel.

The phone rang and rang, forever, before he finally picked up.

"What is it? I'm revising a design," he said.

"I got hit by a car," I told him.

He went quiet for a couple of seconds, then asked, "Is it serious?"

"Not really. Just a scrape," I said.

"Then catch a cab home. I can't get away right now," he said, and that was it.

After he hung up, I just sat there on the ground for five whole minutes.

It wasn't the pain of the fall that kept me there.

It was that I wanted to cry so bad, but the tears just wouldn't come.

In the end, a passing delivery driver stopped and helped me to my feet.

After that night, I kept telling myself he was just busy, that's all.

Too busy to worry about me.

Too busy to love me.

But right now, watching him throw himself in front of Lily, his movement was so fast, so unhesitating.

It was pure instinct.

It was like his body had made the choice before his brain even had time to catch up.

He didn't have to think for a single second. He already knew who he was supposed to protect.

That person wasn't me.

It never was.