I dragged my suitcase to this run-down motel on the edge of town. The whole place smelled musty and felt dated. The wallpaper was peeling, and the carpet was covered in stains.

But for someone who got exiled like me, this was the only place I could afford.

In the middle of the night, a sharp pain ripped me out of a nightmare. The cancer had spread, and it felt like needles were stabbing my bones. Every single breath was agony.

I curled up under the thin blanket, and memories from childhood came flooding back. I was only 14 years old back then, and my family's private lessons had just started.

Sofia always "kindly" picked out the perfect outfits for me. However, every time I put on the clothes she handed me, the fabric would make my skin itch and sting like crazy.

It got so bad that I passed out from the pain in class and broke out in hives. Everyone just thought I was being dramatic and couldn't handle the stress of the lessons. Only I knew it wasn't an allergy, though.

My tutor just shook his head and sighed. "Claire is just too delicate."

But she hurried over, putting on a caring face. "Are you feeling alright, Claire? I can get your medication."

Later, someone pushed me off a platform during a mock urban combat drill. I broke my leg and lay in an abandoned warehouse all night.

By the time the rescue team found me, I was running a high fever and talking nonsense.

Sofia's eyes welled up. "This is all my fault. I should have been better at protecting my sister and found her sooner."

She got to be the hero, and I was left looking like a dead weight.

The worst part was those so-called "nutritional supplements". Every time I got hurt, Sofia would always take charge of looking after me.

She had prepared the doses herself and carefully fed me. I thought we were just close like sisters, but my health kept going downhill.

Looking back, the supplements must have had low amounts of a slow-acting poison that messed with my bone marrow. It was gradually breaking down my body.

Everyone wrote me off as naturally weak, and I bought into it. I had no idea I had been a victim of poisoning since I was 14.

…

Meanwhile, back at the Falcone family's headquarters, Rocco sat at his desk but couldn't focus on his work. A sense of dread crept up on him, making him restless.

He shot up from his chair and swept all the papers off his desk. "Dammit!"

He had this urge to find me right now and make sure I was safe, but his pride wouldn't let him. He had to have a reason.

Just then, my phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I was nearly unconscious from the pain. It was a text from Rocco, and his words were cold as steel. "Get back here and apologize to Sofia, Claire. You can't run from your problems."

I left him on read. I was so weak that I didn't even have the strength to message back.

I didn't know if he still cared about me, but it didn't matter anymore. I only had one day left.

…

The following afternoon, a waitress from a small diner nearby knocked on the door. She had a kind, sincere look in her eyes. "The owner told me to bring you something to eat."

She carefully carried a bowl of stew. My eyes welled up right then. I couldn't believe someone in this world still cared about a cast-off like me.

Just as I was about to gratefully take the stew, Sofia suddenly showed up. Wearing skintight black leather, she sported a perfect smile. "I finally found you, Claire."

She walked right up and shoved the waitress out of the way. The piping hot stew spilled everywhere, splashing onto my legs. I gasped from the pain.

She acted like she was apologizing. "Sorry about that. But you probably shouldn't drink something when you don't even know where it came from, Claire."

The waitress glared at her. "Why are you doing this?"

Sofia snickered with a vicious look. "Mind your own business, brat."

The waitress looked terrified and stumbled away.

She turned my way, her tone casual, like we were catching up. "By the way, we no longer employ the lawyer who processed your paperwork.

"He had the nerve to go against the family and secretly prepare your divorce documents. Rocco personally kicked him out of the city.

"Do you see how worthless you are? You just keep dragging others down for no reason. Everyone in the Falcone family sees you as an ungrateful traitor."

Hearing that, I felt my whole world crumbling. Even someone who tried to help me suffered because of me. I was nothing but bad luck to anybody near me.

I poured every ounce of strength I had into the question. "Why are you doing this?"

Sofia burst into laughter, the sound dripping with sarcasm and sharp enough to sting. "That is because I hate your guts.

"You're going to die anyway. Why don't you leave the Falcone family's turf? Get a clue! Rocco doesn't trust you. He's always seen you as dead weight."

It turned out that was her true color—the flawless Sofia everybody looked up to.

I said calmly, "I know for a fact I've never done a thing to hurt you, Sofia. Why do you hate me this much?"

She rose to her feet, staring down at me. "What can I say? A foster kid is never going to measure up to the prized daughter of the family. It makes me sick. Why does a trash like you get to have everything?

"The toughest takes it all. The title of the Don's wife, Dad's affection, and Rocco's attention belong to me. By the way, I know exactly why you're so frail."

Sofia looked up at me, her eyes glinting with malice. "Ever since you turned 14, I've been slipping slow-acting poison into your supplements, destroying your bone marrow slowly.

"I'm the one who put the bugs in your clothes, shoved you off the platform, and poisoned your supplements. It was all me."

Trembling with rage, I raised my hand to slap her, but she easily shoved me to the ground before I could.

What was I thinking? With this dying body of mine, what chance did I have against her?

She slowly crouched down. "What's wrong? Are you mad? It's hard to swallow, isn't it? What a shame! You can't do anything about it. You don't even have the strength to hit me back."

She kicked me a few more times, then smiled with satisfaction as she watched me squirm in pain. "Seeing you grow weaker day by day for years has brought me so much joy. Soon, when you're dead, I'll take my rightful place as the woman beside Rocco."

The agony was so intense that I nearly blacked out.

Sofia left the room, thoroughly pleased with herself. She had no idea my phone on the nightstand was recording the whole time.

The tiny red recording light kept blinking. The phone had captured every word that came out of her mouth.

I struggled to get up from the floor, and my clothes were drenched in cold sweat. Staring at the recording on my phone, I couldn't help but laugh.

At last, everyone would see Sofia for who she really was. With just one day left to live, it was time to let the truth come to light.

Looking at the recording on my phone, I sent it to Rocco, Anthony, and Lily with a single tap. Then, I also forwarded a copy to the Falcone family's consiglieres and capos.

That audio caught every word Sofia had said. "I'm the one who shoved you off the platform and slipped poison into your supplements. That was all me. When you die, I'll be the only woman by Rocco's side."

I took out the SIM card and went off the radar completely. In my last 20 hours, I finally did something I could be proud of. At this point, I just wanted to go in peace.

It was pitch black outside, and the neon lights outside the motel flickered harshly. I dragged my frail body out of the room and made my way to Rosa Patterson's restaurant—the only place in the world that would still take me in.

I walked for about ten minutes before I got to the restaurant. Peering through the window, I saw Rosa cleaning the table. She was being really gentle and focused about it.

I gently opened the door. "Ms. Patterson."

She looked up and saw me, her face tightening with worry. "What happened, Claire? You look awful."

I asked, "Can I just stay here for a bit?"

Rosa put down her rag right away. "Of course. Sit down and rest. You don't look well. How about I warm up something for you?"

She didn't ask any questions and just made me some food. That simple kindness without asking for anything in return made my eyes well up.

She set down a bowl of pumpkin stew in it. "Go on. You'll feel better."

I took small sips of the stew, feeling the heat ease some of the chill inside me.

She softly inquired, "What is keeping you from going home?"

I calmly replied, "I'm on my own now. They threw me out."

Rosa looked at me, her eyes softened with sadness. "I never mentioned this, but I used to have a daughter about your age.

"She got caught in some crossfire on the street, and a stray bullet took her. If she were still here, she would be just as lovely as you."

Her hand came up and softly brushed through my hair, like a mother comforting her child. "Would you let me look after you, Claire? Think of it as me doing something for my daughter."

I couldn't hold back anymore and just burst into tears. For the first time in years, I felt what a mother's love truly was.

It had nothing to do with how tough I was or what I could do for the family. This was unconditional love with no strings attached.

Rosa helped me to my feet. "Come with me. Let's go to the back so you can lie down."

Her room was simple but cozy. A picture of her daughter hung on the wall, and she had a glowing smile.

Rosa put me in a clean dress, then gently brushed my hair. "Your hair is so beautiful. It's just like the moonlight tonight," she remarked.

I rested my head on her shoulder, feeling a sense of safety I had never known. The pain in my body even seemed to ease up a little. "Thank you, Ms. Patterson."

She choked out her words, "Don't be silly, sweetie. You're the one who made me feel like a mother again."

My eyes grew heavy, and the world drifted away. The life in me was slowly going out, but I had never felt such deep peace. At least someone truly cared for me in the end.

Rosa muttered, "Thank you, sweetie. You bring back memories of my daughter."

I wished I could reply, but I didn't have the strength to speak. My body just kept getting lighter and lighter, like whatever was left of me was slipping out of this worn-out shell.