My heart has no moonlight

Nicole nearly collided with Gregory in the hallway, a cardboard box in her arms.

“Where are you going?”

Meeting his searching gaze, she answered evenly, “Just taking out the trash.”

Gregory didn’t press further. Turning away, he headed upstairs, a steaming mug of honey-lemon tea in hand.

Watching him go, Nicole lowered her head with a soft, bitter laugh. She tossed the box into the bin and went straight to the hospital.

“Mom, I’m here.”

In the quiet hospital room, Nicole took her adoptive mother’s frail hand. Her heart ached so fiercely the tears nearly spilled over.

Seven years. Judith hadn’t visited once.

“Mom… don’t you resent her at all?”

Her mother offered a weak smile. “What mother resents her own child? Knowing she’s well is enough. Even if she never comes.”

“But your illness—” Nicole’s voice caught, the rest of the words stuck in her throat.

“Having you remember me makes me happy enough.” Her mother patted Nicole’s hand gently. “Nicole, promise me you’ll live a good life, okay?”

Nicole nodded desperately, tears splashing onto her mother’s thin hand.

And that tender moment was exactly what someone chose to capture.

Later, her phone rang. Her father.

“You ungrateful girl! Get your ass home now!”

A cold dread settled in her stomach.

That dread turned to lead the moment she stepped inside and saw Judith in the midst of a hysterical meltdown.

“Dad, Mom, just let me go! I don’t belong here—not really!” Judith sobbed, clutching a suitcase, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Don’t stop me, please… My sister already arranged everything with my birth mother to send me back…”

Before Nicole could even speak, her mother shoved several photos into her face.

“Look what you’ve done!”

Helpless frustration washed over her. “I was just visiting my sick mother. I didn’t—”

“And this?” Gregory hit play on a voice recorder. A voice eerily like Nicole’s filtered out:

“Mom, don’t you want her to come back?”

“She’ll always be your family’s daughter.”

Too exhausted to explain, Nicole recognized the clumsy AI mimicry—Judith’s handiwork. Yet someone was all too willing to believe it.

“Nicole, is there truly no room in your heart for your sister?” her mother cried, pulling Judith into a protective embrace. “She’s suffered so much because of you! Don’t you feel any guilt at all?! How did I raise such a cruel daughter?!”

Gregory stepped forward, his hand closing around Nicole’s throat. The warmth she once knew in his eyes was gone, replaced by pure malice. “Someone! Lock her in the basement! She stays there until she understands what she’s done!”

Nicole closed her eyes and gave up.

“I warned you not to lay a finger on Judith.” He shoved her into the engulfing darkness, his face an emotionless mask. “Nicole, I despise disobedience.”

The heavy door slammed shut, plunging everything into black. No matter how hard she pounded on the metal, no one answered.

Then, her phone rang. The hospital.

“Miss Nicole… I’m afraid we have instructions not to treat your mother.”

“What?!”

The world dropped out from under her. Her mother was critical. Without care, she would die.

The doctor’s voice fell to a whisper. “Administration says we can’t accept her. She’s been flagged system-wide across the city. I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do…”

“You can’t do this! She’s dying! She’ll die!” But her pleas met only silence. The line went dead.

“Gregory!! Let me out!!” Panic clawed at her throat, tears streaming down her face. “Please, let me out…”

The only reply was the faint, skittering sound of rodent feet in the dark beside her.