Pain shot through me, and I squeezed my eyes shut, teeth clenched as the incision burned. Harvey ripped off the bandage and poured disinfectant on the wound.
A searing, corrosive pain tore through my side, and I screamed, shoving him away. He stumbled back, hit the bed railing with a grunt, then kicked me off the bed.
I curled up on the floor, clutching my wound, gasping for air. That’s when the on-call doctors finally rushed in. One of them saw the raw, blistered skin and froze.
“What did you do to her? This is a caustic burn—sodium hydroxide!”
“What? That’s impossible!” Harvey put on a perfect look of shock, glancing at the table like it betrayed him. “I bought disinfectant and sanitizer online—just trying to keep the wound clean.
“When Leah started bleeding, I panicked and didn’t check…
“Babe, I’m sorry! It’s my fault—I hurt you again!”
He pounded his chest like he was devastated. But I knew better. If he really cared, he wouldn’t have kicked me like that.
I stayed quiet, letting the doctors lift me onto a stretcher. As they wheeled me out, I heard cheers from Harvey’s room.
“Harvey, you’re a genius! You knew Leah would come check on you and swapped the disinfectant with sodium hydroxide. That wretch just got burned—bet it’ll scar for life!”
“Did you see her crawling on the floor like a dog? I almost died laughing!”
My fists clenched. Even after figuring out the truth, hearing it firsthand still ripped me apart.
Once the doctors left, I grabbed my phone and booked a spot at a rehab center. Then I dialed that familiar overseas number.
“Mom, I’ve made up my mind. I want to come home.”
