Episode 7
(Am I Dying?)
Time dragged on, though for Cecilia, it felt like an eternity dragging by. The party eventually began, Seraphine, the star of the night, cutting the cake, her smile wide as everyone gathered around, showering her with praise and cheers. From that point, it was all meaningless noise — laughter, chatter, the kind of happiness Cecilia couldn't touch.
Her grandfather, Blake, once the president of Valemont Industries and now chairman, was busy speaking with influential figures, absorbed in conversations about business. Iris was by his side, just as engaged.
And Cecilia? She was alone.
She stood in the corner of the room, a shadow in the bright, lively hall, watching the scene unfold from a distance. As always, she didn't belong here, not really.
And then, Seraphine appeared, surrounded by her friends, her laughter blending into the background noise. They passed by Cecilia without so much as a glance in her direction.
When Cecilia saw Seraphine walking in her direction, she felt her heart racing, her thoughts a frantic plea. Please, don't come here. Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Just walk away.
And when Seraphine did exactly that, passing by without a glance, relief flooded Cecilia's veins. She was grateful—pathetically so.
But then—
"Oh, who's that?"
One of the girls asked, her voice cutting through the noise. Cecilia froze, her heart thudding in her chest.
"Huh? Who?"
Seraphine replied, feigning confusion.
"That person…"
The girl pointed directly at Cecilia, and in that instant, Seraphine's gaze followed. Her eyes locked on Cecilia, standing alone, vulnerable under their stares.
"Ah… That…"
Seraphine hesitated, her voice barely audible, yet every word felt deliberate.
"She is stunning!" Another girl added with a bright smile. "Is she a celebrity or something?"
"I thought the same! She looks so refined."
"Is she one?"
Another chimed in, curious.
The girls' compliments hung in the air, but Seraphine's demeanor shifted. Seraphine's once indifferent expression turned sharp, her eyes cold and distant.
"No," Seraphine's voice turned cold, biting. "She's just… a distant relative."
Cecilia heard everything. Every single word. Seraphine hadn't bothered to lower her voice. No, her tone had been deliberate—loud enough for Cecilia to hear the lie, a cruel reminder of her place. They shared the same blood, yet here she was, being reduced to something less. Something disposable.
"Oh, I see! Why didn't you introduce us to her before?"
"Oh, that's not really possible. She lives with my grandparents. I hardly ever see her—only at parties, and those are few and far between."
"Oh…"
"Why does she live with your grandparents, though?"
"She was abandoned…"
"Huh?"
"Anyway, let's go."
Seraphine turned, starting to walk away.
"Hey, wait!"
The girls called, hurrying after her.
I felt my blood run cold as those words sank in. What was I feeling—distressed? Humiliated? Maybe both. And anger? Yeah, that too.
If all you wanted was to ignore me, why even bother inviting me? Wouldn't it have been easier if I just hadn't come? You didn't even need to introduce me.
Every time I show up to these gatherings, the loneliness creeps in, suffocating. I always feel so small. Unwanted… just like mother always said.
In this world of adults, I felt scared… out of place. While my siblings glide through life, charming everyone around them. And me? I was nothing but a ghost in this family, haunting the edges of their perfect lives.
It's pathetic, isn't it? I hate myself for thinking like this. I wish I could be like those cold, unbothered protagonists. Strong, indifferent. I wish I didn't care so damn much.
Maybe then, maybe, I wouldn't feel so broken all the time.
But no… I'm stuck. Stuck with these pathetic thoughts. And sometimes I wonder if my parents were right all along. That I really am selfish… always thinking, always drowning in my own misery, but doing nothing to change it.
But I… what can I do? I'm a coward. Afraid of everything. Of life. Of people. Of myself.
"Cilia, dear. What are you doing here, all alone?"
Iris's voice broke through Cecilia's thoughts, drawing her back into the moment.
"Oh, Grandmother!"
Cecilia responded, her smile carefully crafted, like a mask she wore far too often.
"Why are you standing here all alone?"
Iris asked, her brow furrowing with concern.
"I… I just got a little thirsty."
Cecilia lied, casually gesturing to the table beside her with an empty glass.
"Oh, I see. Did you talk to Seraphine?"
That question twisted the knife, but Cecilia's smile only grew wider—too wide. "Of course, we talked… a lot."
The lie rolled off her tongue effortlessly, a skill honed through years of practice.
"I'm glad to hear that."
Iris relaxed slightly, relief washing over her, oblivious to the façade.
"Come now, let's get something to eat. You must be starving."
"Okay, let's go."
Cecilia said softly, looping her arm through Iris's, though each step forward felt heavier, her lie hanging in the air, suffocating her more with every second.
They took their seats at their designated dinner table, the atmosphere calm and almost serene. The meal progressed smoothly, the party winding down. But then—
"Huff... Huff..."
It started as a small itch in my throat, barely noticeable. I swallowed, hoping it would pass, but the irritation lingered, stubborn. I took a sip of water and brushed it off, thinking it was nothing—just dust in the air.
Then, my chest began to tighten, slowly, like invisible hands squeezing the air out of me. My breaths grew shallow, but I didn't panic. Not yet. A cough slipped out, but the weight on my chest only grew heavier.
Something isn't right.
"Sweety, are you okay?"
Grandmother's voice cut through the haze, her eyes clouded with worry as she noticed my growing unease.
"Yeah... yeah, just—"
The words tangled in my throat, my lips tingling as they refused to form the rest.
I touched my face, my fingers trembling as I felt my unnaturally swollen lips. My throat constricted tighter and tighter, as if someone was forcing it shut. Each breath grew thinner, like I was sucking air through a straw. My heart started to race, the cold grip of panic tightening in my chest.
Am I choking? What is happening?
"Are you okay?"
Grandfather's hand clasped my arm. I nodded, forcing my expression to stay calm, even though inside I was screaming.
I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. The burning in my chest spread like wildfire, panic clawing at my insides. My hands trembled, but I kept them steady as I brought them to my neck, pretending it was just an itch, even though I was desperately trying to claw open space for the air that wasn't coming.
"Gasp–"
A small, involuntary sound escaped me, and the panic I was hiding surged.
No! No! No! What's happening to me? And why now? Why did it have to happen here?
"Gasp– Cecilia! What's Wrong, honey?"
Grandmother's voice trembled with urgency, but it felt distant, drowned out by the relentless ringing in my ears. The room began to tilt, my vision flickering in and out as dark spots crept in from the edges.
I couldn't focus—everything was spinning, swaying out of control.
"Lia!"
Grandfather's shaky voice cut through the haze, his hands gripping my shoulders as my legs began to buckle beneath me. I couldn't hold myself up anymore.
Am I dying?
The pain was unbearable—every attempt to breathe felt like a knife to my throat. But still… Why? Why did it have to happen here? Why now?
The room erupted in hushed voices, shocked gazes fixating on her pale, trembling form. Hands clutched her chest, but her tear-filled eyes seemed haunted by something deeper than fear. She wasn't just terrified; she was consumed by an inexplicable, crushing guilt.
"Samuel! What are you standing there for? Call the doctor! Right now!"
Blake's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and frantic, his eyes red with panic.
Samuel, Cecilia's father, frozen in place, snapped out of his trance at Blake's command. His hands shook as he fumbled with his phone, his panic mirroring the chaos inside his mind.
"Yes... right, yes."
He muttered, fingers trembling as he dialed.
"Lia! Dear! Keep your eyes open!"
Grandmother's voice cracked with desperation, her hands lightly slapping my cheeks. But it didn't matter—I couldn't hold on any longer. The world faded away, swallowed by darkness.
They rushed me to the hospital that day. The diagnosis? Anaphylaxis. Apparently, it was the nuts in the dessert that triggered it.
How pathetic. Why did I even eat that dessert? I never liked them in the first place.
Maybe I really am cursed. Or worse—maybe I am just evil. A stroke of bad luck following me everywhere I go.
Because once again, I ruined her party. Just like I did… 10 years ago.