They Always Chose My Sister, So I Chose Myself

Chapter 3

At 11:40 pm that night, Richard made a public announcement on f*******:.

Jessica Reed falsely claimed to be seriously ill tonight, barged into our private family gathering, and used her supposed death to pressure family members into donating bone marrow. Effective immediately, her medical expenses, debts, loans, and fundraising have nothing to do with the Bennett family. Friends and family, please don't fall for her lies.

He added one more line.

My wife, Diane Bennett, has only one daughter, Ava Bennett.

Diane was the first to like the post.

Ethan shared it with the caption: A parasite always takes one last bite before it leaves its host.

Ava posted a photo of herself in the paper crown. She didn't mention my name. She only wrote: Love isn't about holding death over someone's head. Truly kind people face their fate with dignity.

Someone in the comments asked who Jessica Reed was.

Diane: [Someone who stopped being part of this family long ago.]

In the car, Noah fastened my seat belt and brushed his fingers against my cold cheek. "If it hurts, just let it out. You don't have to hold it in."

I unlocked my phone and played the recording again.

Diane saying, "Then go die." Richard saying, "We won't claim your body." Ava saying, "I would rather waste away in a hospital bed." Every word was still there.

When I was sent away at 4, I cried until I threw up. When I returned to the Bennett family at 17, I spent years bending over backward for them, as if being quiet enough and useful enough would one day earn me my place as Diane's daughter.

Tonight, she had finally made one thing clear. That place had never been mine.

I placed a hand over my still flat stomach.

"I've made my decision," I said. "The baby stays."

*****

48 hours before Ava's Seravelle tour.

That morning, she was still posting photos of her airport outfit. By afternoon, the orchestra's medical screening system had flagged critical results, and her health clearance was urgently revoked.

At 6 p.m., Ava and Ethan stormed into the hematology department.

I was handing over medical records at the nurses' station when Ethan yelled from halfway down the corridor, "Jessica Reed, you're insane!"

He slapped a medical screening receipt onto the counter.

"Why is there a hematology follow-up in Ava's records? Did you falsify her medical records because you didn't want her going to Seravelle?"

Ava removed her sunglasses. Her face was pale enough to look sick, but her lips were painted a striking red.

"I can decide not to call the police." She lowered her voice. "Delete the abnormal record and issue the orchestra another health clearance. I'll forget you were here tonight."

"I didn't enter that record."

"You work in hematology."

"So?"

"So who else would hate me enough to pull something like this?"

She stepped closer, absolute certainty in her eyes.

"You never got Mom. You never got the Bennett family name. You couldn't even keep your baby. Now you see me with parents, a fiancé, and a stage waiting for me, and you finally can't keep up the act."

Several nurses nearby stopped and looked over.

I asked, "Did you ever consider that the system flagged you because you're actually sick?"

Ava gave a short laugh, "Jessica, you pretended to have leukemia earlier. And now it's my turn? Can't you come up with a new story?"

Ethan lunged for me, but security stepped in. He still pointed at my face and shouted, "If you want to die, go find somewhere quiet and do it. What makes you think you can drag Ava down with you?"

Dr. Hayes stepped out of his office and picked up the receipt from the counter. "These were two consecutive critical values from the screening center, which triggered mandatory follow-up. No medical staff member can add or delete them."

Ava's expression froze for a second before she lifted her chin. "Machines make mistakes. I'm perfectly fine. I have to fly to Brenvale tonight."

"The screening center called you 12 times," Dr. Hayes said. "Jessica also delivered your diagnosis report herself."

Ethan scoffed. "That cursed piece of paper? It's still buried under the cake box. Who would bother reading it?"

Ava opened her mouth to speak when a drop of blood landed on her white coat. Then another. Then a third... She hurriedly grabbed a tissue and pressed it to her nose. The blood soaked through in seconds, running between her fingers.

"I'm only exhausted from rehearsals." Her voice shook, but her eyes remained fixed on me. "She must have done something."

Dr. Hayes pulled two independent review reports from the folder and placed them in front of her with a heavy thud. "Then read them carefully."

He looked up and spoke slowly, each word carrying its full weight, "Ava, I think you've misunderstood one very important thing."