The chaos of firecrackers and sprinklers had turned the hospital wing into a disaster zone. Nurses rushed into Ivy's flooded room, expressions alternating between concern and poorly disguised amusement as they surveyed the drenched occupants.
"She did this!" Tanya shrieked, pointing a dripping finger at me. Her mascara ran in black rivers down her cheeks. "Arrest her immediately!"
The security guard who'd appeared looked uncertain. "Ma'am, we need to move the patient first—"
"I don't care! That woman just attacked my daughter!" Tanya's voice rose to a pitch that made everyone wince.
The doctor who hurried in took one look at the situation and took charge. "This patient needs to be moved. Now." He turned to my stepmother. "Mrs. Turner, please step aside and let us do our job."
I leaned against the doorframe, watching the spectacle with cold satisfaction. Ivy's hospital gown clung to her thin frame as nurses quickly disconnected her IV and monitors. For a woman supposedly at death's door, she had remarkable energy for cursing and demanding I be punished.
"Miss, you'll need to leave the premises," a security guard told me firmly.
I smiled sweetly. "Of course. I just need to speak with my sister once she's settled. Family matters."
He looked skeptical but was too busy with the evacuation to argue further.
I followed at a distance as they wheeled Ivy to a dry room down the hall, Alistair and my family trailing behind like wet, miserable puppies. The jewelry box I'd brought sat forgotten on the wet floor of the original room. I picked it up and tucked it back into my purse.
Twenty minutes later, Ivy was installed in a new room, hooked up to fresh machines. Her hair hung in wet strands around her face, making her look genuinely ill for once.
I entered without knocking.
"You psychopath!" Ivy hissed when she saw me. "You could have killed me!"
"With firecrackers?" I raised an eyebrow. "Please. They weren't even the dangerous kind."
Alistair stepped forward, water still dripping from his expensive shirt. "Hazel, that was completely inappropriate. If you've come to apologize—"
"Apologize?" I laughed, the sound sharp enough to make him flinch. "I've come to deliver what you paid for."
I pulled out the jewelry box and placed it on Ivy's bed tray. "Your two million dollar purchase. Enjoy."
Ivy stared at the box, then back at me. Something shifted in her expression – the mask of the dying victim fell away, revealing the calculating creature beneath. "Thank you, sister dear. How thoughtful of you to hand-deliver it."
"I wouldn't miss this moment for the world." I smiled, all teeth and no warmth. "Congratulations on getting your dying wish. You've always wanted what was mine, and now you have it – my fiancé, my jewelry..." I gestured to Alistair, who had the decency to look ashamed.
"Hazel, that's not fair," Ivy's voice turned soft, practiced in its fragility. "I never wanted to hurt you. It just... happened. When the doctors told me I had months to live, Alistair was so kind to me—"
"Save the performance," I cut her off. "We both know exactly what you are."
My father and Tanya burst into the room, having changed into dry clothes from somewhere. Harold's face was thunderous.
"How dare you show your face here after what you did!" he bellowed.
I turned to face him, unflinching. "Hello to you too, Dad. I was just delivering the wedding jewelry, as promised."
"You could be arrested for that stunt!" Tanya spat.
"For indoor firecrackers?" I shrugged. "They're legal. Just noisy."
"You deliberately set off the sprinklers," Harold growled.
"That was an unfortunate side effect." I examined my nails. "Not my fault the hospital has sensitive fire detection."
Alistair rubbed his temples. "Hazel, please. This isn't helping anyone."
I ignored him, turning back to Ivy. "So, when's the wedding? You must be in a rush, given your... timeline."
The corners of Ivy's mouth curled into a smug smile. "This Saturday, actually."
I froze. "This Saturday?"
"Yes," she nodded, eyes gleaming with triumph. "We're using all the arrangements you made. Same venue, same flowers, same everything. It would be a shame to let it go to waste when I have so little time left."
The room spun slightly. Saturday. My wedding day. The day I had planned for over a year. They were stealing not just my fiancé, but my entire wedding.
"The Garden Plaza? My flowers? My menu?" Each question felt like glass in my throat.
"It's all paid for," Alistair interjected, as if that explained everything. "It seems logical to use the arrangements since they're already in place."
I stared at him, speechless. Six years together, and this was what he'd become – a weak man justifying the unjustifiable.
"Think of it as your gift to your sister," he added, actually believing this might placate me.
Something broke inside me then – not my heart, which was already shattered, but whatever remaining sense of restraint I had.
"My gift?" I repeated, my voice dangerously quiet. "You're taking my wedding – the one I planned for us, the one I dreamed about for years – and giving it to her, and you call that MY GIFT?"
Alistair shifted uncomfortably. "When you put it like that—"
"How else should I put it?" I demanded. "You're literally taking the happiest day of my life and giving it to the person who has made me miserable since she entered my life."
"She's dying, Hazel," my father snapped. "Have some compassion."
"Compassion?" I laughed bitterly. "Where was your compassion when Mom was dying? Where was your compassion all those years Ivy and Tanya tormented me? Where was ANYONE'S compassion for me?"
The room fell silent. Even Ivy seemed momentarily taken aback by the raw pain in my voice.
"The food, the cake, the venue – those are just things," Alistair said softly. "They don't matter."
"Then why take them?" I challenged. "If they don't matter, why not plan your own wedding?"
"There's no time," Ivy whispered, clutching Alistair's hand dramatically. "The doctors say I might not make it to next month."
I looked around the room – at my father's defensive stance, Tanya's smug expression, Ivy's calculated vulnerability, and Alistair's pathetic attempt at rationalization. They were all complicit in this cruelty, and they all thought they were justified.
"So what is it?" I finally asked, my fists clenched at my sides. "Keeping it in the family?"