Regret Consumes Them
Language: en
The night my sister Elara returned from dialysis, the house felt suffocating with despair. Curled frail on the sofa, she whispered that I shouldn’t overwork myself at my new job. Dad squatted on the porch, smoking, having sold our family land to pay for her treatments. My fiancé Chris, who’d always protected Elara like a sister, arrived muddy from work and pressed his wages into Dad’s hand. They all mourned how fate targets those who’ve already suffered. Only I knew the truth. Watching my reflection, my nose bleeding again, I washed my crumpled leukemia diagnosis down the sink. At dinner,…