Her Neglect, My Undying Haunted Soul
I was the biological daughter, yet my mother looked at me with disgust while worshipping my adopted sister, Carina.
When I vanished for two months, my mother laughed it off as a "tantrum" designed to ruin my grandmother's jubilee.
She only stopped laughing when the detective slammed a forensics report on the table.
"Your daughter didn't just die, Mrs. Fowler," the officer said, his voice cold. "She was buried alive by the elements. It took her three days to suffocate in that ravine."
My mother turned pale, stammering that she never got a call for help.
The detective' s eyes narrowed. "Oh, she called. Five times. Someone answered the last one, listened to her scream, and then deleted the log to cover it up."
The room went dead silent.
Slowly, my mother' s horrified gaze turned toward Carina, the "perfect" daughter, who was trembling violently in the corner.
My ghost watched from the shadows of the interrogation room as the realization finally hit her.
She hadn't just neglected me; she had raised the monster who left me to die.
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Chapter 5
Eva Graham POV:
Gwendolyn had never approved of Iain. He was beneath Hilda, in her estimation, a man of ambition but not of pedigree. Then came my father, a brief, passionate affair that left Hilda pregnant and disgraced. A scandal. Iain, ever the opportunist, married Hilda, adopting me to salvage her reputation and secure his place in the family fortune. That was my purpose, I realized later. A pawn.
The paternity test confirmed it. I was Iain's biological daughter, though he rarely acted like it. Hilda, scarred by the scandal, resented my very existence. I was a constant reminder of her youthful indiscretion, a living testament to her fall from grace. She used me to keep Iain, a bargaining chip in her desperate need for security. But she never loved me.
They treated me like a ghost, even when I was alive. An inconvenient truth, easily ignored. When I was three, they packed me off to Gwendolyn, a silent banishment. They started their "real" family soon after. Kellan, Iain's biological son from a previous marriage, arrived, and Hilda poured all her maternal instincts into him. Then, five years later, they adopted Carina. She was showered with affection, every whim indulged, every desire met. A perfect, polished doll for their perfect, polished life.
I was the biological daughter, yet I was the outsider, the inconvenient truth hidden in the attic, then sent away.
"I still haven't heard from her, Mother," Hilda said, her voice tight, a hint of genuine worry finally seeping through. "I've tried everything. She's completely vanished."
Gwendolyn' s eyes narrowed. "Then find her. Now. Before dinner. If she's not here, there will be no jubilee. And no inheritance."
Hilda sighed, a long-suffering sound. "Mother, please. Can we just eat? I'm sure she'll turn up eventually. She always does this, you know. She just wants attention."
"Attention?" Gwendolyn' s voice sharpened like a blade. "She wants to be loved, Hilda. Something you' ve never been able to give her. Now, tell me, what happened two months ago? The last time you saw her?"
Hilda hesitated, her eyes darting away. She omitted the slap, the cruel dismissal, the desperate calls. She skipped over the part where Carina had accused me of pushing her, the part where I had wandered off into the storm, broken.
"She was upset," Hilda said, choosing her words carefully, a practiced lie. "About her graduation. We couldn't make it, you see. Carina had a terrible allergic reaction, absolutely heartbreaking. Eva, being Eva, took it personally. She's always been so dramatic."
Gwendolyn slammed her cane on the floor. "You missed her graduation? Hilda, how could you? That's a milestone! A child's graduation is as important as their wedding day!"
Hilda squirmed, unable to defend herself. A flicker of cold calculation entered her eyes. She pictured Carina, fragile and perfect, and then me, always the problem. She would protect Carina, always.
A heavy silence descended upon the dining table. Iain, ever the peacekeeper, cleared his throat. "Dinner is ready, Gwendolyn. The chef prepared your favorites."
Gwendolyn, with a sigh of resignation, took her seat. She would eat, but the battle was far from over. Hilda, seeing a momentary reprieve, brightened, pouring wine for everyone, her smile brittle.
"To a wonderful jubilee, Mother!" she chirped, raising her glass.
Gwendolyn, however, put her hand over her glass. Her eyes bored into Hilda' s. "Hilda, you know my health. I need to be careful. Unlike others…" Her gaze flicked to Carina for a split second. "I have to be careful with my choices."
She then turned her attention back to Hilda. "Speaking of health, Hilda, do you ever think about Eva? Do you ever think about the gift she gave you, years ago?"
Hilda blinked. "What gift, Mother? Eva never gave me anything of value."
Gwendolyn' s lips thinned. "She gave you a chance at life, Hilda. When your kidneys failed, and everyone else was a mismatch. Eva, your own flesh and blood, donated her bone marrow. Anonymously, because she didn't want you to feel obligated."
Hilda' s face drained of color. "What are you talking about? Carina donated her marrow! She saved my life! She' s my selfless hero!"
Hilda pointed a trembling finger at Gwendolyn. "You're lying! You're trying to turn me against Carina! You always hated her, didn't you, Mother? Because she's not your perfect little Eva!"
Gwendolyn stood up, her eyes blazing. "You fool, Hilda! You absolute, blind fool!"
Carina, who had been quietly eating, suddenly dropped her fork with a clatter, her eyes wide with manufactured fear. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Grandma, why are you being so mean? I love you! I just want everyone to be happy."
Hilda, instantly, rushed to Carina's side, pulling her into a protective embrace. "See, Mother? You're upsetting her! You always try to make Eva seem like a saint and Carina a villain! It's not fair!"
"Either you stop this nonsense, Mother, or you can leave!" Hilda's voice was sharp, defiant.
My ghost heart wept. It was true, Mother. It was always me. For you. For love.
I remembered the hospital room, the pain, the fear. My grandmother had known, of course. She' d tried to stop me from lying, from letting Carina take the credit. But I had begged her to keep my secret. I wanted my mother's love to be pure, unburdened by obligation. I wanted her to love me for me, not for what I gave her. I wanted her to love me like she loved Carina.
Gwendolyn, burdened by her own past mistakes, her own guilt for Hilda' s difficult upbringing, had conceded. She had watched, heartbroken, as Hilda showered Carina with praise, while I, still recovering, was ignored in my hospital bed.
Hilda, oblivious to the truth, continued to comfort Carina, pouring out her love and adoration. My sacrifice, my pain, my desperate attempt to earn her love, had been in vain.
The family dinner ended in bitter discord, the unspoken truth hanging heavy in the air. As Hilda escorted a tearful Carina to her room, her phone rang.
The screen flashed with my name. "Eva Graham."