The Day Our Promise Breaks

Dahlia looked at Sandy, her tone icy and distant.

"Do you want to?" she asked.

Sandy nodded vigorously.

She couldn't stand living in this cramped, run-down apartment, and she didn't dare imagine what life would be like without her dad-her mom probably wouldn't even bother to smile at her anymore.

"Mom, can you teach me? What should I do so Daddy will come back to us?" Sandy knelt at Dahlia's feet, looking up at her with wide, hopeful eyes.

"What do you think?" Dahlia shot back, her voice sharp.

Sandy hesitated, understanding what her mother meant.noveldrama

But...

"Mom, Dr. Carter said I can't get sick..." Sandy's voice trembled with fear.

She remembered overhearing Dr. Carter warning her parents: she couldn't afford

to get sick now, any infection could be dangerous-no one, not even the best doctors, could save her then.

She didn't want to die.

*Slap-*

Dahlia's hand flew up, striking Sandy's face.

"If dying was that easy, would you still be alive now?"

"Sandy, you need to understand without Charles, you're nothing."

"You've already been expelled from St. Catherine's Academy. From now on, you'll have to live in this shabby apartment and call Wesley, that useless man, your father."

"Everything you had before is gone."

Sandy shook her head desperately.

This wasn't what she wanted.

She couldn't get expelled from St. Catherine's.

Wesley-a poor, good-for-nothing man-could never be her dad. Only Charles was worthy of being her father.

"Mom, I'll do it. Whatever it takes to make Daddy come back, I'll do it."

Sandy's worries faded, replaced by her fear of returning to poverty.

She was used to being adored, to living a life where everyone looked up to her. She couldn't bear even a single day of this misery.

What was there to be afraid of? Mom was right-how could she die so easily? She'd survived kidney failure twice, hadn't she?

And besides, when she was five, Mom had made her soak in ice water before. She'd ended up in the hospital-sure, it was awful, but in the end, nothing really happened.

Sandy remembered that time clearly: she'd just come out of surgery, still weak, and Mom deliberately made her sick. When she woke up, the look of worry on Daddy's face was burned into her memory.

Daddy loved her.

If she got really sick again, really bad, Daddy would be heartbroken. And if he was heartbroken for her, he'd forgive her.

Then she and Mom could go back to the way things were before.

Sandy lost herself in the memories of happier days. Each time she recalled Charles doting on her, her resolve grew stronger: she would do anything to win Charles back.

As evening fell, Sandy took off her clothes and walked into the bathroom on her

own.

She turned on the cold water.

This was a tiny apartment-just one bedroom and a small living room. There was no bathtub, just a narrow shower. Gritting her teeth, Sandy stepped under the icy spray.

She'd made up her mind, but she was still only seven. The freezing water hit her skin and she shrieked darting away from the stream, her lips quivering and her body shaking violently. She grabbed her clothes, trying to wrap herself for warmth.

Dahlia wheeled herself into the bathroom.

Looking at her trembling daughter, Dahlia's face hardened. She knew she couldn't count on Sandy for anything.

"Get back in the shower," Dahlia ordered sharply.

Afraid of her mother's glare, Sandy edged backward, stepping under the cold water again.

"Mom, it's so cold, I can't stand it," Sandy whimpered, hugging herself tightly. But her arms did nothing to keep out the cold.

The water stung her skin, making her injuries swell and her face turn deathly pale, her lips slowly shifting to a bluish hue.

But Dahlia pretended not to see.

Charles's attitude had thrown her into a panic-there were no more chances to make mistakes. This was her last shot.

A little sniffle or a small fever wouldn't move Charles. Only if Sandy got really sick,

dangerously sick, would Charles feel sorry for her.

And if Charles felt sorry for her, they'd win him back.

So all Dahlia cared about was her goal-Sandy's suffering didn't matter.

Only when Sandy was nearly unconscious, her body practically frozen and her

face ashen, did Dahlia wheel over and turn off the tap.

Under such extreme conditions, it didn't take half an hour before Sandy developed a fever.

Even then, Dahlia sat in the corner, cold and unmoved, waiting.

It wasn't until Sandy's temperature climbed close to 104°F that Dahlia finally gathered her up, settled her in her lap, and wheeled her out of the apartment to go find Charles.

She knew Charles had been staying at Oakwood Manor lately. The security

cameras she'd installed back then were still there.

Tonight, Charles was there again.

Dahlia hailed a cab to Oakwood Manor.

The driver helped lift the feverish, limp Sandy into the car and, noticing her condition, asked if they should make a stop at the hospital. Dahlia snapped at him, so he minded his own business, dropped them off at Qakwood Manor, and drove away.

Dahlia had arranged for Sandy's face to be recognized at the gate "to make it

easier for her to visit Charlie," she'd once said.

Inside the complex, Dahlia wheeled straight to Charles's building.

She rang the doorbell.

Moments later, Charles's handsome face appeared in the doorway.