Part 3The Bride They Left to Die

Those were strong preion painkillers, and the hospital only gave me a limited amount because of my condition. I couldn't just walk into a pharmacy and replace them.

"Curtis," I said, "I might not make it another three days."

The living room went quiet for a couple of seconds before Richard laughed. "You're really pretending you're dying just to get out of taking a family photo?"

"Leslie, don't say things like that just to scare everyone."

Mom smoothed the hem of my dress, talking to me like I was a child throwing a tantrum.

"You used to fake stomachaches whenever things didn't go your way with Shannon. You're still pulling this?"

"Mom," I insisted, "I'm not faking."

"Alright, you're not." She gave a distracted nod. "We'll take you to the hospital after the pictures, okay?"

The photographer snapped the photo.

Shannon stood in the middle with Curtis's arm around her waist, while Mom, Dad, and Richard crowded around them. I stood at the very edge in my cheap white dress, pushed so far out of the shot that only half my pale face made it into the picture.

After the photos, Dad pulled out a document.

"This is the revised deed transfer for the old family house. It's in your name right now, but Shannon's back, so we're transferring it back to her."

Grandma left that house to me. Before she died, she held my hand and told me every woman needed a place of her own, somewhere she could always go when life got hard.

For ten years, I trusted Dad enough to let him hold on to the deed. I never once questioned him.

"Grandma left that house to me."

"You've had it for ten years." Dad slid a pen across the table. "Don't be greedy. Give the house to Shannon. You and Curtis still have the new place."

Shannon smiled and clung to Curtis's arm. "But Richard said the new house is mine, too. If Leslie lives there, I'll have nightmares every night."

Curtis didn't even hesitate. "Leslie can stay in my old apartment. It's a little run-down, but it's close to the hospital. That'll be more convenient while she recovers."

That apartment was barely 300 square feet. It was a converted basement with no windows, bad leaks, and no working heat in the winter.

Seven years ago, when Curtis's business nearly went under, I lived there with him for two years. Whenever mold spread across the walls, I covered it with wallpaper, one section at a time.

Back then, he held me and promised, "I'll never make you live like this again."

Now, he offered me that same basement like it was some kind of generous consolation prize.

"I'm not signing," I said.

Richard grabbed my shoulder. "Stop making this difficult.

"After Shannon disappeared, she slept under bridges and ate out of trash cans. And you're complaining about staying in a basement? It's only temporary. Once she settles down, everyone will let you come back."

Pain shot from my head down my spine, and my vision started to blur. I gave up trying to argue with them.

"Give me my phone. I need to call an ambulance."

Curtis grabbed my wrist. "The guests will be here any minute. If an ambulance shows up in the middle of everything, what are they going to think about Shannon?

"Just wait another two hours. Once everyone leaves, I'll take you myself."

"It hurts too much. I can't wait." I tried to pull away, and my phone slipped from my hand.

Shannon got to it first.

"Are you trying to record us so you can go around telling everyone the whole family ganged up on you?"

Shannon shut off my phone and slipped it into her pocket. "I'll give it back after you sign."

The doorbell rang, and relatives started arriving with gifts. After that, no one paid any attention to how much pain I was in.

Everyone gathered around Shannon as she told them what she had supposedly gone through after she disappeared. She said she slept in train stations, got beaten, and nearly ended up being trafficked across the country.

Mom cried so hard that she could barely stand, while Dad turned away to wipe his eyes.

Curtis lowered his head and kissed Shannon on the forehead. "No one's ever going to hurt you again."

I braced myself against the wall and struggled to my feet.

A corner of my medical records still stuck out from under the shoe cabinet. If I could just show them the reports, they had to believe me.

My fingers barely reached the folder when Shannon stepped on my hand. She leaned down and lowered her voice.

"No one's taking you to the hospital today, Leslie. Ten years ago, I spent three minutes waiting for you, wondering if anyone was coming back for me. Today, you're going to pay for every second of it."

She picked up the folder, carried it into the master bedroom, and tossed it inside.

The door shut in my face. A second later, I heard the lock click.

Shannon had locked my medical records inside.