Chapter 2

A few minutes later, Daniel looks at his silent phone and feels a flicker of unease.

Because before, no matter how ignored I was, I always waited for his messages—

whether he’d come home for dinner,

whether he had time to answer,

whether he was safe on assignment.

This time, he reached out first.

And I didn’t respond.

Just as he’s about to call the precinct to confirm Marcus’s movements, Chloe gently tugs his sleeve.

“Dad, I handled all emergency calls the day of the ceremony. Emma’s my sister. If something had happened, I would’ve known.”

His frown immediately disappears.

“The people around her are all useless. A crippled boyfriend. A dead-end friend. Just teaming up to lie to me.”

He screenshots the Emotional Settlement application, planning to send it to me.

But when he scrolls through his contacts and tries several search entries, he can’t find my profile.

Of course.

After Mom died, he stopped keeping me in mind.

He never replied to my messages. Never updated my contact name.

I sent him countless texts:

Take your meds.

What time are you home?

Your heart pills are in the drawer.

He never answered.

But Chloe’s name stays pinned at the top.

“My precious daughter.”

Something flickers in his chest.

He ignores it.

Chloe speaks gently.

“Dad, you were already planning to send Emma to the docks for me. Why not just go through with the Emotional Settlement? She’s lived off you for twenty years. Even used your money to support that crippled boyfriend.”

“When the results come out, she’ll understand how wrong she is. She’ll listen.”

Daniel nods.

He starts listing everything he’s “given” me.

Childhood expenses.

Education.

Lucas’s hospital bills.

Line by line.

Twenty years of debt.

He opens the Settlement portal.

Submits.

A confirmation appears:

“This program is currently in pilot stage. Once submitted, it cannot be revoked.”

“All emotional contributions during the parent-child relationship will be fully audited.”

“If the child is deceased before settlement, the indebted party must assume responsibility and experience all associated pain memories.”

His finger pauses.

Just for a second.

Then he looks at Chloe’s pale, helpless expression.

And presses confirm.

He’s certain of two things.

First—I’m not dead.

I only go between home, the library, and the hospital. Marcus couldn’t have touched me.

Second—even if I’m angry, once he threatens Lucas’s medical bills, I’ll come back like always.

He believes Chloe.

He believes I disappointed him.

He believes I need pressure.

He sends the screenshot to Sarah as a warning.

Then he pulls Chloe into his arms and sighs.

“You know, Chloe… your dad saved my life. I’ve spent years trying to repay that. Emma has no ambition. Wasting her life on some cripple. If she takes the risk for you, that’s what she should do.”

“You never let me down. You became a brilliant agent. You take care of me. You’re my pride.”

Chloe leans against him, eyes lowered.

“That’s what I’m supposed to do, Dad.”

Watching them, my throat tightens.

After Mom died, I tried so hard to make Daniel proud.

But he never really saw me.

In high school, I wanted to go to the academy like him.

“You?” he said. “Don’t be ridiculous. Your sister has the talent.”

In college, I was accepted into the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit internship—fifteen spots nationwide.

I showed him the letter.

He glanced at it.

“Quantico is too far. Who’s going to take care of the house? Your sister’s busy. Be reasonable.”

So I gave it up.

Tore up the letter.

Stayed local.

Cooked.

Set alarms for his medication.

Took him to cardiology appointments.

The doctors said his heart condition required constant monitoring.

I memorized every dosage schedule.

Set over a dozen alarms.

He never once asked who set them.

Later, I started sending anonymous case analyses.

Thirty-seven cases. Three years.

Every email ended the same way:

Be careful out there.

He never replied.

Until Chloe claimed the account.

He was thrilled.

Took her under his wing.

Introduced her everywhere as “my daughter—the genius agent.”

I stood behind library shelves watching internal FBI news broadcasts.

Said nothing.

Day after day.

Year after year.

Daniel forgot he had another daughter.

Forgot who gave up the BAU internship.

Forgot who stayed awake watching his heart monitor.

Forgot every “be careful.”

In his eyes, I was just the useless girl who haunted hospitals and clung to a crippled boyfriend.

I look down at my hands.

There’s nothing left.

When I died, I was still holding a tie.

Three months’ salary.

His birthday gift.

He never came.

He never will.

And in those twelve hours of torture, as I swallowed my last breath—

It wasn’t Marcus’s revenge that hurt the most.

It was Daniel’s love.

The love he never gave me.