Chapter 3

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Eugene interrupted, his voice a teasing whisper beneath its authority. A slight tremor betrayed his usual steadiness. “Victoria’s blindness is temporary.”

Claire’s performance was seamless; her head nestled against my shoulder with practiced innocence. “Oh, silly me,” she cooed. “Perhaps tomorrow Victoria’s sight will return, and she’ll be the most radiant bride Eastbrook has ever seen. I’m so thrilled for you, dear sister.” That’s how she’d always fooled me—with her perfect performance of wide-eyed innocence.

After the assistant delivered my wedding gown, Claire expertly orchestrated our solitude. The air grew heavy with malice.

“Victoria, this dress you designed—it’s exquisite. It’s stunning.” A pause, then the rustle of fabric between her fingers. “Though it’s rather large on me…”

The rip of silk shattered the hospital room’s sterile quiet. “A blind bride in couture?” she laughed softly. “The hospital gown suits your new… status better.”

Tears streamed down my face, and a white-hot agony erupted in my eyes. I tried to scream, but no sound escaped. My trembling hands instinctively reached up to wipe away the tears, but Claire’s grip clamped around my wrists.

Her lips brushed my ear, her warm breath carrying words as cold as ice. “Poor, sweet Victoria. Did you really think it was the accident that stole your sight?”

“One casual comment from me, and Eugene harvested your corneas for my benefit. The irony? I didn’t even need them. Even a stray dog wouldn't want them.”

Her grip tightened painfully. “If you’re truly as clever as everyone claims, you’ll vanish quietly. After all…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Imagine what Eugene might do if I mentioned that you’ve become a… liability.”

The burning tears were nothing compared to the inferno consuming my heart. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Claire roughly wiped away the evidence from my face. She seized my hand, forcing it high in the air.

“Crack!” My palm stung from the self-inflicted slap she’d orchestrated. Before I could react, a violent force threw me backward. My head struck the wall, leaving my ears ringing with a high-pitched whine.

“Victoria!” Eugene’s voice exploded with fury. “Have you lost your mind along with your sight? How dare you assault Claire in her delicate condition!”

Just as he expected, I lowered my head in false contrition, though the caustic tears still burning my eyes made every movement agony. My voice quavered—not from remorse, but from pain and carefully contained rage.

“I’m sorry, Claire.”

Eugene’s footsteps retreated toward the door. “Someone will collect you at eight tomorrow morning.”

What he didn’t know was that tomorrow’s wedding wouldn’t be a celebration—it would be my escape. The day I would finally disappear from his life.