1 Right before we sailed, Jackson unbuckled my life jacket himself. "Your sister's right," he said flatly. "Without a push, you'll never surf like her." He turned away, steadying Fiona on the yacht without a glance back. A massive swell dragged me under. Choking on saltwater, I saw Fiona above, filming my struggle while leaning into Jackson. He barely sighed. "Swim this thousand meters, Nora, and I'll get you into the club!" For fifteen years, I'd played the obedient shadow. I hiked mountains in heels until I bled, dove into frozen ponds for Fiona's earrings until I nearly died. I thought obedience bought belonging. I was wrong. I was just their toy. Another wave crushed me, and I stopped fighting. I sank. When they hauled me aboard, Fiona pouted. "Jackson was going to praise you. No stamina." I shoved them back, coughing brine, and met their eyes with hollow calm. "From now on, I do nothing you ask." That plunge into the ocean left me with a hundred and four degree fever and severe pneumonia. But Fiona wasn't done having fun. So, my family abandoned the yacht and boarded a luxury cruise liner just to keep her happy, leaving me to curl up in a tiny cabin on the lower deck. Every single breath felt like broken glass scraping my lungs. Jackson didn't come to check on me once. Instead, he just called. His voice on the line was colder than the sea. "Nora, haven't you thrown enough of a tantrum? Fiona is having heart palpitations because she was traumatized watching you drown. Even if you want attention, you don't need to play the victim like this. Go apologize to her. If you do, I'll overlook the attitude you gave us on the deck this afternoon." I opened my mouth to speak, but my stomach violently churned. I hung up on him. To Jackson and Fiona, this was just me acting out. After all, they knew that if Jackson ignored me for a couple of days, I'd crawl back, begging for their approval. That evening, the cruise ship docked. Fiona suddenly got the urge to go night diving. But right after slipping into her wetsuit, she fainted on the deck. From the small porthole of my cabin, I watched Jackson sprint to her side. He scooped her up in his arms, his face pale with a raw, desperate panic I had never once seen him direct at me. I looked down at the simple band on my ring finger, the one bought for our upcoming engagement. Slowly, I slid it off. I tossed it straight out the window, watching it vanish into the dark, churning ocean. Jackson caught the movement. Through the glass, our eyes met, and his expression instantly darkened. Just then, my parents walked into my cabin carrying a cup of hot water. Seeing my flushed, feverish face, my mother's eyes welled with tears. "Nora, sweetie, drink some water." I took a single sip, but before the warmth could hit my stomach, a crew member rushed to the door. "Ma'am! The oldest daughter still hasn't regained consciousness!" The concern on my mother's face vanished instantly. She bolted upright, knocking the cup from my hands. The boiling water splashed over the back of my hand, leaving a painful, blistering red patch, but she didn't even notice. She and my father practically ran over each other to get to Fiona's luxury suite. The spilled water grew cold on the floor, just like my heart. Half an hour later, just as I was drifting into a feverish sleep, my mother returned. She had two staff members drag me to Fiona's bedside. "Nora," she whispered, her voice pleading. "Fiona isn't waking up. The doctor says her chronic anemia is flaring up again. You have such a strong constitution. Let them take some blood for her." I lay there, shivering violently. I wanted to scream that I had just been dragged from the sea, that my lungs were burning with pneumonia, but I didn't even have the strength to stand. Before I could say a word, a thick needle pierced my vein. Jackson stood by the head of Fiona's bed, holding her hand tightly. He didn't look at me once. By the time they finished, the world was spinning. I had to lean against the cold metal walls of the corridor just to stumble back to my room. A buzz from my phone broke the silence. It was a text from Jackson: Good to see you have a conscience, Nora. I'll have breakfast with you tomorrow morning. A bitter laugh escaped my throat. I was about to turn off my phone when a social media notification popped up. Fiona had just posted a photo. It was a shot of Jackson asleep, his head resting by her bedside, their fingers tightly intertwined. Her caption read: Even if the ocean lies ahead, as long as you're by my side, I fear nothing. I stared at that photo for a long time, until my eyes burned and there were no tears left to cry. 2 The day we finally docked coincided with my twentieth birthday. For dinner that night, I put on a dress I had been saving for a special occasion. It was a gorgeous, deep blue piece patterned with stars and oceans, a gift Jackson had given me last month. I had just sat down when Jackson walked in with Fiona. Her eyes locked onto my dress instantly. Redness crept into her eyes, and her voice trembled with unshed tears. "That dress is so beautiful. Because of my anemia, I never got to go to parties growing up. I wish I could wear something that pretty just once." Without a second thought, Jackson turned to me, his voice sharp and demanding. "Nora, go change out of that dress." I stood frozen, my fingers clutching the fabric of the skirt. "Jackson, did you forget what today is?" He frowned, clearly annoyed by my questioning. "It doesn't matter what day it is. What's wrong with dressing down for once? My feelings for you don't need to be proven by a piece of clothing." My feelings for you. He had used that exact phrase to pressure me into giving up my scholarship spot for Fiona, and to force me to walk through a torrential downpour to buy her favorite cake. Now, he was using it to strip me of my birthday dress. I didn't argue. I silently turned around, walked upstairs, and changed into a faded, washed out t-shirt. When I returned, the dining table was covered in platters of lobster and crab, all of Fiona’s favorite seafood. Everyone in the room knew I was severely allergic to shellfish. My mother lovingly placed a piece of crab meat into Fiona's bowl, then looked at me with a soft, dismissive smile. "I know you're allergic, Nora, but we're celebrating your sister's recovery today. I hope you don't mind. Since it's your birthday, I'll have the maid whip up your favorite egg noodles later." I sat at the edge of the table, a hollow laugh caught in my chest. I actually hated egg noodles. But my mother had never bothered to remember what I liked. For as long as I could remember, her mind only held Fiona's preferences. Whenever she needed to appease me, she'd throw a bowl of plain noodles my way. Jackson blinked, realizing it was my birthday, but he quickly shrugged it off and dropped a piece of shrimp into my bowl. "You know, Nora, the only way to beat an allergy is exposure. You're just being dramatic. Your sister literally overcame her fear of the water, and you can't even eat a piece of shrimp?" I didn't say a word. I picked up the shrimp and forced myself to swallow it. Within twenty minutes, hives erupted across my arms, and my chest began to tighten. Seeing my struggle, Fiona smirked and made an announcement. "I've decided to take Nora's spot in the ocean rescue diving assessment! She's too cowardly anyway. She'd only embarrass herself." I snapped my head up, gasping for air. "I've spent two years training for this exam! You don't even know the basics of diving, Fiona. Why are you doing this?" Before I could finish, Jackson cut me off. "Nora, your sister is finally showing an interest in something. Just let her have the slot. It's just diving. If she struggles, I'll personally train her." I stared at Fiona's smug grin. My mind flashed back to the last two years of waking up at dawn, pushing my body to the limit in empty pools, yet Jackson had never once offered to help me. I stood up, walked out of the room, and went to find my allergy medication. But when I came back down, I overheard Jackson on the phone with his assistant. "Modify Nora's custom gear to fit Fiona," Jackson was saying, his tone businesslike. "The carbon fiber, pressure resistant suit. It's too late to order a new one, and with Fiona's delicate health, I'll only feel safe if she's wearing the best. As for Nora, just swap hers with a standard rental set. She's only going there for show anyway." 3 I stood frozen in the hallway, listening to him casually strip away the safety gear that was meant to protect my life, all to give it to someone else. I pressed a hand over my mouth, laughing silently until tears ran down my fingers. Over the next few days, I kept up my training. I had to pass that deep dive assessment. It was my only ticket into the national marine rescue team. The day before the exam, I went to the study to retrieve my medical clearance forms. The door was slightly ajar, and a voice drifted out. Fiona was whining to our mother. "Mom, do you and Dad love Nora more? She's so healthy and strong, while I'm just a fragile burden." My mother sighed, her voice dripping with affection. "Oh, sweetheart, don't talk like that. If she didn't share your rare Rh negative blood type, why on earth would we have adopted her in the first place? It was all so we'd have a walking blood bank for you." "We've raised her for over a decade, so of course there's some basic pity there," my mother continued. "But in our hearts, you are our only true child. She is just a backup reservoir. She could never compare to you." A loud ringing filled my ears. My mind went entirely blank, cold dread pooling in my chest. All those years of begging for their love, of running myself ragged just to see them smile, and to them, I was nothing but a walking meat bag of blood. No wonder they rolled up my sleeves every time Fiona so much as coughed, ignoring my fevers, my illnesses, my exhaustion. I shook violently, tears spilling over my cheeks. As I turned to flee, I collided straight into Jackson. He took one look at my tear streaked face and scowled. "Nora, what is it now? It's just a spot in a diving club. Is it really worth crying like someone died? We're getting engaged next week. Can't you grow up and be a little more understanding?" It hit me then with brutal clarity. In his eyes, everything I did was a childish tantrum. I ripped my arm out of his grasp, staring at the man I had loved in secret for a decade. "Jackson, did you ever actually love me?" My question only made him roll his eyes. "Nora, don't suffocate me with this emotional nonsense." He walked right past me, heading into the study. I watched his back recede, my eyes cold and clear. He didn't know that I had already canceled the makeup artist and the dress fittings for our engagement. Since they had no use for me outside of my veins, I had no use for them either. A few days later came the day of the diving assessment, which was also the eve of my scheduled engagement to Jackson. Fiona, furious that I had refused to voluntarily withdraw from the test, lured me down to the lower deck of the family yacht under the pretense of returning my custom gear. Jackson, as always, had looked the other way. "Take some time to think about your attitude, Nora," Fiona sneered from the other side of the heavy steel door. The lock clicked shut with a definitive snap. "I'll let you out once the assessment is over." The hold was pitch black, smelling of rust and heavy engine grease. In the past, I would have panicked, crying and begging them to open the door. But now, I simply found a dry corner and sat down. I pulled out my phone and opened my email inbox. There was a message waiting for me, an official invitation from the International Marine Rescue Federation. They were offering me a position on an active duty rescue crew in high risk international waters. If I accepted, I would be deployed immediately to their base off the coast of Somalia. For the next five years, I would be effectively off the grid. I stared at the flashing red confirmation button on the screen, and without a shred of hesitation, I tapped it. 4 By the time they let me out the next day, the exam was long over. They knew I had missed my chance to ever join the domestic diving league. Jackson walked up to me, reaching out to brush my cheek, but I flinched away. A flicker of irritation crossed his face. "Tomorrow is our engagement party, Nora. Behave yourself." I kept quiet. He had no clue that tomorrow was also the day I boarded a one way flight out of the country. But back at the house, as I packed my bags, Fiona caught wind of something. She saw me sliding my passport and certifications into my backpack and assumed I was trying to sneak out for a makeup exam. Determined to keep her toy close, she walked to the top of the stairs, smashed a porcelain vase, and deliberately sliced her forearm open with a shard. "Ah! Blood!" Her scream threw the entire household into chaos. Outside the emergency room, my parents were frantic. My mother's eyes were swollen from crying, and to my absolute shock, she fell to her knees right in front of me. "Nora! I'm begging you! Fiona lost too much blood, and the hospital's rare stock is low. If you don't save her, she's going to die!" I looked down at her, feeling nothing but a deep, hollow exhaustion. Just days ago on that yacht, when I was burning up with a fever, they had used the exact same guilt trip to drain me. I took a step back, refusing her for the first time in my life. "I have something important tomorrow. I can't give blood." While the international rescue team didn't require a physical exam on site, their pre deployment medical screening was incredibly strict. Heavy blood loss would red flag my chart immediately. Jackson lunged forward, grabbing my shoulder. "Nora! Do you even have a soul? That is your sister in there! If you don't step up today, our engagement tomorrow is off!" He thought this threat would work, just like it had for the last ten years, that I would break down and beg him to stay. I looked at him one last time, gently but firmly removing his hand. I walked into the donor room on my own. I rolled up my sleeve and sat in the chair. "Take it," I told the nurse. The thick needle slid into my vein, and dark red blood began to fill the plastic bag. By the time the bag hit six hundred milliliters, the nurse's hand was shaking. "We have to stop! Any more and she'll go into hypovolemic shock!" But outside the glass, Fiona was still whining about feeling faint. Jackson looked through the window, his voice cold and flat as he told the staff, "Keep drawing. She's tough. She won't die." My body temperature plummeted, and suddenly, the heart monitor began to wail, signaling cardiovascular collapse. Doctors rushed in with epinephrine. Through the blur of my fading vision, I saw panic finally flash across Jackson's face. I stared up at the harsh fluorescent lights, whispering in my mind: I've paid you back with my life. Now, keep your love. I don't want it anymore. I woke up at three in the morning to an empty room. My parents and Jackson were all next door, celebrating Fiona's recovery. Nobody remembered the daughter who had literally coded on the table to keep her sister breathing. I pulled the IV line from the back of my hand, slipped into my clothes, and walked out into the cold night. By the time my flight cleared the runway, heading toward East Africa, the sun was just beginning to rise. Two days went by. Jackson assumed I was just sulking and would crawl back to apologize like I always did. But when the hour of our engagement party arrived, my chair remained empty. Steaming with a week's worth of suppressed anger, he drove to our house and kicked open the door to my attic room. He froze. The wardrobe was wide open, completely bare. The room was so sterile and clean it looked as though no one had ever lived there. On the wooden desk sat a neat stack of papers. Beside a pile of medical receipts for blood draws lay an official, notarized document dissolving my adoption, stamped with my ink pressed thumbprint. Jackson's heart skipped a beat. The secret my parents had kept for twenty years; how long had I known? Panic finally clawed at his chest. He spun around, running out of the house, and dialed my number. But all he got was a cold, automated recording: "We're sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service."
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