Chapter 191: You Aren’t Fine
April dropped her arm to her side, standing tall and unshakeable over the bed.
"Emily, there is a fine line between being naive and being stupid," April delivered the words coldly, ruthlessly, stripping away every last layer of sympathy.
Emily’s heart was racing against her ribs. Her jaw throbbed and her cheek burned, a high-pitched ring echoing in her ears, yet she did not dare turn her head back.
As someone who had been subjected to horrific physical violence her entire life, this slap felt... surprisingly different. It was gentle, grounding, and cold. It wasn’t that April didn’t use enough force—even a mere pat on her cheek made her tremble before.
But this time, it didn’t make her cower in fear; it didn’t make her squeeze her eyes shut in despair.
She simply... looked aside, her eyes wide as the burning sting on her cheek anchored her floating, frantic mind back to reality.
"For the twenty-six years you lived in that house," April continued, her eyes piercing straight into the side of Emily’s face, "for all the years you were fully aware your mother was being poisoned and would eventually die by their hands... When had you ever taken action to get her out of there? When had you ever taken action to break the shackles around your own neck and feet?"
Emily’s breath caught in her throat.
"Just because I, a seer, suddenly tell you she will die tomorrow, does not mean you will magically gain the balls to stand up to the people who tormented you your entire life," April sneered quietly. "And even if you did, where would that have gotten you? They were always holding all the cards, and they would never let you do what you wanted. What would you have done? Called the police? We both know how that would have ended. Tried to bribe the staff? Don’t even get me started when they aren’t even on your side."
April went quiet for a second, her voice dropping an octave into a low, absolute truth.
"In the end, you would have been in an even more helpless situation than the moment you found her dead. Because you would have known you could stop it... But in the end, you still would have just watched it happen."
Emily’s eyes filled with hot, stinging tears once more.
April was right. Every single word cutting out of her mouth was indisputably right. Emily was a coward. She had cowered in the dark, swallowed their abuse, and convinced herself she was powerless.
Her quiet compliance toward their cruelty was what had gotten her mother killed—nothing more, nothing less. She had been a fool, a helpless, stupid fool, and Beatrice had paid the ultimate price for her inaction.
A ragged, suffocating sob tore from Emily’s chest as she pulled her hands up to cover her face, her shoulders shaking violently as she collapsed into tears.
"I’m sorry..." Emily wept, her voice cracked and broken as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I’m so sorry for trying to blame you... I’m sorry, April... I’m so sorry..."
April simply sat by the edge of the mattress, her posture rigid, her brown eyes watching her weeping twin with silent, unreadable detachment.
"If you know you’re wrong, then it’s fine. Just know there’s no easy way out just by blaming others," April said flatly.
Emily nodded weakly through her tears, her hands trembling against her face. April turned away, a soft silk handkerchief materializing in her palm directly out of her spatial dimension. She stretched her arm back out, offering the cloth to her twin.
"Here, Emily. Wipe your tears," April said quietly. "I believe it’s time to get back at the people who wronged you."
Emily sniffed, taking the handkerchief with shaking fingers and dabbing at her red, swollen eyes. Her chest still heaved with shallow gasps, but the wild, chaotic hysteria had completely left her posture.
"First... I would like to see Mother," Emily whispered, her voice barely audible as she looked up at April. "Can I see... her body?"
April flicked her eyes over toward Xavier.
Xavier gave a smooth, single nod of his head. "We can make a stop at the private chapel morgue before heading back to the compound."
April turned her attention back to her twin. "Alright. Let’s go see her. But first, you should probably eat something and put on something decent." She looked at the white and blue polka dot hospital gown Emily was wearing. "You can’t go around in a hospital uniform."
"I... I’m fi—" Emily began instinctively, shrinking slightly.
"Don’t say things you don’t mean," April interrupted cleanly, cutting her off before the lie could even leave her lips. "’Fine’? You can barely speak clearly, your shoulders are shaking, and your eyes are sunken in despair. You aren’t fine, Emily. But it’s also not a bad thing not to be fine, so don’t hide behind that single-line lie anymore. No one is going to hit you for speaking up... though I will if you misbehave like just now."
Emily stared at April, processing the cold, unyielding words. Then, for a fraction of a second, a tiny, quiet titter of a laugh escaped her pale lips.
April furrowed her brows, her brown eyes narrowing slightly. "What?"
"It’s nothing," Emily murmured, her small voice carrying a faint trace of warmth for the first time. "It’s just... when you scolded me just now, it reminded me of Mother."
April’s brows pulled together even tighter. "I scolded you? Is that what this is? I call it a lecture of facts."
"Sweetheart, that’s definitely a scolding," Nat cackled from the foot of the bed, his dark shades resting low on his nose as his eyes gleamed with pure amusement.
"She scolds people and doesn’t even realize she’s doing it," Xavier murmured smoothly from beside her, a subtle, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Seriously, April can be so terrifying when she’s oblivious to her own actions," Alexander added, shuddering slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he was flashing back to a memory from one of his own scolded moments.
Samuel adjusted his thin-rimmed glasses, his disciplined face remaining entirely polite. "Don’t mind them, Miss April. You are doing wonderfully."
April let out a slow, quiet sigh, turning her head away from the men. Seriously? Did I really just scold her? I was simply stating objective facts.
"Anyway, let’s not dilly-dally anymore," April said, brushing the commentary aside as she stepped right up to the edge of the mattress and extended her hand toward Emily. "Come. You have no wounds and no physical disabilities, so you should be able to move just fine."
Emily looked at her hand, swallowing hard. "Where... where are we going?"
"I told you that you need to eat and wear proper clothing, right? So, we’re going to do what I love doing most in my life," April said, her fingers closing tightly around Emily’s as she caught her twin’s hand, interlocking their fingers tightly. A rare, sharp grin spread across April’s lips. "Spending money on shopping."
"On... on what?" Emily gasped out, her eyes widening in complete surprise.
Before she could process it, April smoothly pulled Emily right off the high hospital mattress, catching her frail frame against her side to keep her balanced.
"Come on," April murmured, her arm supporting Emily’s waist as they turned toward the door. "We’re going to get you something proper to wear, eat a nice breakfast, and then... we’ll make the bastards who destroyed our lives pay with their blood and flesh. Doesn’t that sound fun?"
Emily stood frozen for a second, her mind reeling. April’s definition of ’fun’ was utterly unhinged, yet as she looked into her sister’s unblinking, fearless eyes, Emily’s heart began to race against her ribs. The corners of her lips twitched, her brown eyes lighting up with a sudden, dark glint.
"Yes," Emily whispered, her voice solidifying into something cold and firm. "I like that idea."
Standing near the doorway, Xavier, Nat, Alexander, and Samuel watched the exchange.
Seeing the way the fragile, broken woman’s eyes had suddenly flared with cold, ruthless resolve at the mention of spilling blood and flesh, every man in the room realized without a single shadow of a doubt: These two were indisputably identical twins.
That is... all except one man who had an unreadable look behind his thin silver-framed glasses.
As soon as April and Emily stepped out the door, Oliver Baxter stepped forward.
"I did not want to interrupt you in your little reunion, but I do not think I can let my curiosity wait any longer," he said flatly.
Before anyone could react, he reached out and grabbed April’s hand—the exact hand where the handkerchief had materialized seconds prior. "Where did that handkerchief come from?"
Emily blinked, her wide brown eyes darting between the doctor and April’s hand. In her haze of grief and the shock of the slap, she hadn’t questioned it, but now that it was pointed out, she realized the silk cloth she was holding had literally appeared out of thin air.
SMACK!
Nat lunged forward and brutally slapped the doctor’s hand away, his tall, broad frame looming over Oliver like a feral beast.
"Don’t carelessly touch her unless you want to lose those hands you use for operating, you psycho!" Nat snarled, his eyes burning with raw murder behind his dark shades.
Ah, now the psycho is calling someone else a psycho.