ELIANA'S POV
She thought she knew him—until she saw him shatter at 2 AM.
The first week at the Ashford mansion fell into a rhythm Eliana didn't expect: wake at 7 AM to Lily's cheerful Good morning, Ellie!, crush eight pills into applesauce because Lily hated swallowing medication, make breakfast while Lily chattered about her dreams, then tackle online schoolwork at the kitchen table.
Carter was a ghost. He left for football practice before dawn and came home after dinner, disappearing into his room without a word. They'd perfected the art of avoiding each other—passing in hallways without eye contact, eating meals in shifts, pretending the other didn't exist.
At school, it was worse.
Monday morning, Eliana found new screenshots of the viral video taped to her locker. Someone had added annotations: arrows pointing to her body with labels like Mistake and Why?
She ripped them down and kept walking.
In the cafeteria, Sienna held court at the popular table with Carter beside her. His arm draped over her shoulder. Her hand possessive on his knee. To everyone watching, they were the perfect couple—golden boy and his queen.
Eliana ate lunch in the library bathroom like always.
Tuesday, Dylan tried to apologize again. I feel really bad about—
Save it. Eliana brushed past him.
Wednesday, someone started a new hashtag: #ScholarshipStillHere. The posts were creative in their cruelty.
Thursday, Eliana stopped checking social media entirely.
But Friday night—Friday changed everything.
Lily had been quiet all day. Too quiet. She picked at her lunch, barely touched dinner, and fell asleep during their movie at 6 PM.
She's just tired, Carter said when he finally came home at 8. First words he'd spoken to Eliana all week. Chemo does that.
This feels different.
You've been here a week. I've been doing this for three years. She's fine.
He was wrong.
At 10 PM, Lily woke up screaming.
Eliana ran from her room to find Lily doubled over in bed, vomiting into the basin Eliana barely got there in time. The little girl's whole body shook, tears streaming down her face.
It hurts, Lily sobbed. Ellie, it hurts so bad—
I know, sweetheart. I know. Eliana held her hair back—the wig had fallen off somewhere—and tried to stay calm even though panic clawed at her throat. Carter! CARTER!
He appeared in the doorway still in his jeans and t-shirt, frozen like someone had hit pause.
Don't just stand there! Eliana snapped. Get her anti-nausea medication! It's in the blue bottle!
Carter didn't move. His face had gone completely white, eyes locked on his sister like he was watching her die.
CARTER!
He ran.
Lily vomited again. And again. Her small body wracked with spasms that looked painful enough to break bones. Between heaves, she cried for her mother—the mother who was in Paris and hadn't called in six days.
Carter returned with shaking hands and the wrong bottle.
That's a painkiller, Eliana said. Blue bottle. Top shelf.
He vanished again.
Eliana held Lily through the worst of it, singing softly—a lullaby her own mother used to sing, words in a language Lily didn't understand but that somehow still soothed. By the time Carter returned with the right medication, Lily's vomiting had slowed.
Three drops under her tongue, Eliana instructed.
Carter's hands shook so badly he nearly dropped the bottle. Eliana took it from him, administered the dose herself, then carefully cleaned Lily's face with a cool cloth.
I'm sorry, Lily whispered, exhausted. I'm sorry I'm so much trouble.
Eliana's heart cracked. You're not trouble. You're perfect. Just rest now, okay?
Within minutes, the medication kicked in. Lily's breathing evened out. Her grip on Eliana's hand loosened as sleep pulled her under.
Eliana stayed until she was certain Lily was stable, then tucked the blankets around her carefully and stood.
Carter hadn't moved from the doorway. He stared at his sister with an expression Eliana couldn't read—terror mixed with something that looked like guilt.
She's okay now, Eliana said quietly. The medication will help her sleep through the night.
Carter nodded but didn't speak.
Eliana slipped past him into the hallway. She needed water. Coffee. Something to stop her own hands from shaking.
At 2 AM, Eliana gave up on sleep.
She padded downstairs to the kitchen, expecting silence and darkness. Instead, she found every light on and Carter sitting at the island with his head in his hands.
He looked up when she entered. His eyes were red.
Can't sleep either? His voice came out rough.
No. Eliana grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and drank half before trusting herself to speak. Does that happen often? The vomiting?
Every few weeks. Sometimes worse. Carter's hands were shaking again. I should've been ready. Should've had the medication out. Should've
You got it. That's what matters.
I froze. He laughed bitterly. I completely froze while my eight-year-old sister was in pain. Some caretaker I am.
Eliana set down her glass. You've been doing this alone for how long?
Three years. Since she was five.
And your parents?
In Europe. Or Asia. Or wherever rich people go to avoid their dying children. The words came out flat, emotionless, like he'd said them so many times they'd lost meaning. They send money. That's their version of love.
That's not love. That's abandonment.
Carter's eyes snapped to hers, surprised. Like no one had ever said it out loud before.
I'm seventeen, he continued, voice cracking. I'm supposed to worry about football and grades and college applications. Not whether my sister will survive the week. Not researching experimental treatments at 3 AM. Not watching her suffer and being completely useless.
You're not useless.
I froze tonight! You had to take over! You've been here one week and you're already better at this than I am!
That's not true
It is! He stood abruptly, pacing. I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend I'm strong enough. I can't watch her die. I can't
His breathing went ragged. Hands clutching his hair. The perfect mask he wore for the world—the confident quarterback, the golden boy, the guy who had everything—completely shattered.
He was having a panic attack.
Eliana moved without thinking. Crossed the kitchen and grabbed his hands, pulling them away from his head before he could hurt himself.
Breathe, she said firmly. In for four counts. Out for four counts. With me. Now.
Carter's eyes locked on hers, wild and scared.
In. Two. Three. Four. Eliana breathed with him. Out. Two. Three. Four.
Slowly—painfully slowly—his breathing steadied. The panic receded. His hands stopped shaking in hers.
They stood there in the bright kitchen at 2 AM, holding hands like lifelines.
I'm sorry, Carter whispered. I'm sorry you have to see me like this.
Like what? Human?
He almost smiled. Almost. Everyone thinks I have it all together.
Everyone's wrong. Eliana squeezed his hands once, then let go. You're drowning. You've been drowning for three years. That doesn't make you weak. It makes you seventeen.
How do you stay strong? he asked. When everything's falling apart, how do you keep going?
Eliana thought about the viral video. Her parents' bakery getting destroyed. The daily cruelty at school. The way she wanted to disappear most days.
I don't stay strong, she admitted. I just keep moving forward. Because stopping means giving up. And giving up means they win.
Something shifted in Carter's expression. He looked at her—really looked—for the first time since she'd arrived.
Thank you, he said quietly. For being here. For helping Lily. For not running when it got hard like everyone else.
I'm not doing it for you.
I know. His voice went softer. But thank you anyway.
The moment stretched between them, charged with something neither wanted to name. The kitchen felt smaller. The space between them felt significant.
Then Lily's monitor beeped upstairs—just a normal check-in beep, nothing urgent—but they both jumped.
I should— Carter started.
I'll check on her, Eliana said. You need sleep.
They moved toward the stairs together, walking side by side instead of avoiding each other. No longer strangers. Not quite allies. But something in between that felt dangerously like the beginning of trust.
At the top of the stairs, Carter touched her arm. Eliana?
She turned.
At school tomorrow— He stopped, jaw working. I'm sorry. For pretending we don't know each other. For letting Sienna parade me around. For all of it.
It's part of the deal. Business, remember?
Right. Business. But he looked like he wanted to say something else. Something that couldn't be taken back.
Lily's voice called out, sleepy and small: Ellie? Is that you?
The moment broke.
Eliana went to check on Lily, and Carter disappeared into his own room.
But that night, lying in bed, Eliana couldn't stop replaying the way he'd looked at her. The way his voice had cracked on thank you. The way holding his hands during his panic attack had felt like touching electricity.
This was supposed to be business.
So why did it feel like something more?
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Carter:Thank you. For everything. I mean it.
Before Eliana could respond, another text came through.
Unknown Number:Saw you arrive at the Ashford mansion last week. Living with my boyfriend now? Bold move for a scholarship whale. Monday at school is going to be SO fun. Sweet dreams! -S