The searing liquid splashed onto my back, and agony tore through me like wildfire. The burning sensation stole the air from my lungs, and the chemical fumes curled into my nose and throat like invisible claws.
I bit down hard on my lip, trying to stay conscious. But my legs buckled. My vision blurred.
The last thing I saw was Arthur holding Loren in his arms—like she was the most fragile, precious thing in the world.
And me?
Left behind.
---
The pain pulled me back to consciousness like a hook in the chest. Every breath was laced with fire.
I turned my head with effort—and froze.
Loren was curled on the bedside, sobbing into Arthur’s chest.
“You’re my sister’s husband... you treat me so well... I-I shouldn't have...”
Her voice cracked.
“I didn’t mean to close the door. I was scared... I didn’t know what to do…”
Her trembling hands clutched at his sleeves like lifelines.
Arthur brushed her tears away gently, his touch feather-light. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered. “The equipment’s old. Accidents happen.”
“She’ll be okay, right?” Loren’s voice was barely audible.
He stroked her cheek tenderly. “Even if I had to choose again a hundred times… I’d still protect you first.”