Chapter 4 - The Golden Child's Retaliation
The ER bay became instantly claustrophobic.
Eleanor didn't look at my arm. She didn't look at the IV pole dripping clear fluids into my bloodstream, nor did she glance at the medical monitors tracking my racing heart rate. Her gaze was locked entirely on Caleb, radiating an unhinged, predatory indignation.
"Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" Eleanor demanded, taking two swift, aggressive steps into the cubicle. "Two hundred guests! The CEO of your father's firm! Senator Miller and his wife! They were all sitting in that pavilion while Lena sat on the bridal suite floor, sobbing her eyes out! You humiliated her!"
"Eleanor," Caleb said, his voice dropping into a tone so cold it made the room feel as though the thermostat had plunged twenty degrees. "Step outside this curtain right now. Tessa needs rest."
"Don't you order me around, young man!" Eleanor snapped, pointing a trembling, manicured finger at his chest. "You are not married into this family yet, and if you keep up this childish temper tantrum, you never will be! Richard, tell him!"
My father stepped into the opening of the curtain, holding an unlit cigar between two fingers, his face flushed. "Caleb, son... look, passions run high on wedding days. Women get emotional. Lena was joking. She’s always played rough. You know how sisters are. It’s sibling rivalry. You can't call off an entire alliance over an innocent pool dunk."
"An innocent pool dunk?" I finally spoke up. My voice was hoarse, but it cut through the room like broken glass.
Both of my parents turned to look at me, as if only just realizing that there was an actual patient in the bed.
"My rotator cuff is completely torn off the bone, Dad," I said, staring directly into his watery, weak eyes. "I’m having emergency surgery at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. I might lose the use of my right hand permanently."
Eleanor rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, Tessa, stop being so dramatic! You’ve always been like this! Always the victim! Ever since you were six years old and fell off that bicycle, you’ve used every scrape and bruise to suck the air out of the room whenever Lena had a recital or a birthday party!"
"Eleanor," Caleb interrupted, standing up to his full height. He placed himself directly between Eleanor and my gurney, effectively erasing her from my field of vision. "You have five seconds to leave this room, or I am having hospital security remove you in handcuffs."
"You wouldn't dare," Eleanor hissed.
"Try me," Caleb replied, his hand already reaching for the nurse call button on the wall. "I sit on the board of trustees for this medical system, Eleanor. I know the head of security personally. If I tell them you are harassing a patient awaiting trauma surgery, you will be escorted off the property in back of a squad car, and I will ensure the local press gets a high-resolution photo of the perp walk."
Eleanor’s face drained of color. The threat of public scandal—the only weapon that had ever held any sway over her—hit its mark with surgical precision.
She took a step back, her chest heaving beneath her silk jacket. "You’re making a huge mistake, Caleb. Lena is the best thing that ever happened to you. When you come crawling back tomorrow, begging for forgiveness, the terms are going to be very different."
She turned her venomous gaze toward me, peeking around Caleb’s shoulder. "And you, Tessa. If you don't post a public statement on your Instagram by midnight saying that this was a clumsy accident and that Lena is blameless, you are dead to this family. Do you hear me? We will cut you out of everything. We will never speak your name again."
"Get out," I said.
My father grabbed Eleanor’s arm, his nerve completely failing him. "Come on, Eleanor. Let’s go. The girl is ungrateful. Leave her."
They vanished behind the curtain, their sharp footsteps echoing down the linoleum hallway until the automatic doors hissed shut behind them.
The silence that followed was suffocating. I pressed the palm of my left hand against my forehead, trying to stop the pounding behind my eyes.
"Tessa," Caleb said gently, stepping closer. "Don't listen to them."
"I don't have to listen to them," I whispered, reaching over to pick up my phone from the metal bedside stand. "Because Lena is already doing it for them."
I unlocked the screen and opened Instagram.
Lena had posted seven minutes ago. It was a black-and-white portrait of her sitting alone in her bridal suite, her veil hanging off one shoulder, her head bowed in exquisite, manufactured sorrow.
The caption read:
*“Some hearts are incapable of seeing others happy. Today, on what was supposed to be the most beautiful day of my life, jealousy tore down everything Caleb and I built. A deliberate scene, a fabricated crisis, and a family torn apart by someone who couldn't stand not being the center of attention. My heart is shattered, but I pray for those who operate in darkness. Thank you to everyone who supported us. The wedding is indefinitely postponed due to family sabotage.”*
The comments were already pouring in by the hundreds.
*“Oh my god Lena, I’m so sorry! Who could do that to you?!”*
*“Was it Tessa? She always seemed jealous of you.”*
*“Stay strong, queen! Real love will overcome toxic family!”*
"She's painting me as the villain," I said, a dry, humorless laugh escaping my throat. "She pushed me into a pool, destroyed my arm, and now she’s playing the martyr to four hundred thousand followers."
Caleb reached over, his fingers gently closing over the top of my phone, pushing it down until the screen went dark.
May you like
"Let her post," Caleb said, his eyes burning with a cold, terrifying resolve. "Let her dig the hole as deep as she wants. Because tomorrow, when the police review the security footage from the venue, she isn't going to be fighting for Instagram likes. She’s going to be fighting for bail."
***
