In Death I Obeyed You Most Chapter 04
At dawn the next day, I stood stationed outside Chloe’s bedroom door as ordered.
When she finished dressing and swung the door open, she sneered with utter disdain upon seeing me:
“Let’s go, deadweight. Time to watch me play piano.”
I followed silently behind her toward the second-floor conservatory.
As we reached the top of the marble staircase, Chloe let out a sudden, piercing shriek, jerked herself backward, and hurled herself down the stairs!
She tumbled over the steps and slammed onto the landing, wailing theatrically in agony.
I remained planted at the top step, staring down with empty eyes.
Alerted by the scream, Mom rushed into the hallway. Seeing Chloe bleeding on the landing and me standing above, her rage exploded:
“Nora!”
“You wicked monster! I thought the procedure would fix you, but you actually dared to push your sister down the stairs?!”
I parted my lips, answering in a hollow, flat monotone: “Mom, I did not push Chloe.”
“You dare lie to my face?!”
Trembling with fury, Mom didn’t even stop to hit me. She scooped Chloe into her arms. “Chloe! Baby, are you okay?! Mommy is taking you to the hospital right now!”
Chloe sobbed into Mom’s shoulder, “Mommy… Nora shoved me… my head hurts so much…”
Mom glared up at me with murderous venom. “Just you wait! If anything happens to Chloe, I will destroy you!”
Mom rushed out the front doors, carrying Chloe to the car.
I stood stiffly at the precipice of the stairs, looking into the empty hall, detached from everything around me.
At the emergency room, the trauma doctor examined Chloe and delivered an urgent diagnosis: “The patient has deep scalp lacerations and significant hemorrhaging. She requires an immediate blood transfusion!”
“She is Rh-negative—an extremely rare blood type—and our bank is critically low. Are there any immediate relatives with the same type?! Call them in right now!”
Mom seized on the chance like a lifeline. “My eldest daughter is Rh-negative! I’ll have the chauffeur bring her in immediately!”
The moment the driver brought me into the clinic, Mom grabbed my wrist in a vice grip, her eyes bloodshot with malice. “You are going to give Chloe your blood! If you refuse, I’ll break your legs!”
“Yes, Mom.”
I let her drag me toward the phlebotomy room.
The triage nurse had me sit down and rolled up my sleeve to locate a vein.
The second the fabric cleared my forearm, the nurse froze at the sight of extensive dark-purple discoloration across the skin. Confused, she pressed her fingers against my radial artery to find a pulse.
She touched my wrist, then my neck, her eyes widening in sheer panic.
She turned and shouted toward the hall, “Doctor! Please get in here immediately! This patient has no pulse and no body temperature!”
Hearing this, Mom snapped with irritation, “What kind of sick joke is this?! How could a living person have no pulse?! Stop wasting time and draw the blood!”
The attending physician hurried in. Seeing the deep livor mortis staining my arms and neck, shock drained the color from his face.
He placed his stethoscope against my chest, listened in absolute silence, and checked my pupils. His hands began to tremble.
Slowly looking up, he stared at Mom with genuine horror.
“Ma’am… judging by the widespread post-mortem lividity and profound hypothermia…”
“This child has been dead for at least a week!”