02. Caught

Rosslyn reached for her phone, checking the time. It was only 3:00 AM. Exhausted, she drifted back to sleep, her body heavy with weariness.

But a cold splash of water jolted her awake.

"What the—" she began, but a stinging slap landed on her face, fully rousing her from her slumber. The hand belonged to her sister, Vivian, whose tear-filled eyes blazed with anger.

"How could you?!" she shrieked.

"Babe, I don't know how I ended up here, or what happened. I was drunk last night," Damian stammered, his voice laced with panic.

"How could you do this, Damian? She's my sister!" Vivian cried, collapsing onto the floor, her sobs echoing through the room.

Damian, his face pale with panic, quickly gathered his scattered clothes. He approached Vivian, reaching out to hug her. "I'm so sorry, Viv. I don't know how to explain it. I... I don't know how I ended up in Rosslyn's room."

Rosslyn watched, her heart twisting in her chest as she saw the man she had dreamt of countless times holding her sister in a comforting embrace. The pain cut deep, a searing wound that threatened to consume her. She picked up her clothes, her hands trembling as she put them on, feeling as though she was putting on a mask to hide the devastation within.

"What happened here?" Travis, their older brother, entered the room. He was the same age as Damian, and his expression held a mix of concern and confusion.

"Bro, I don't know how in the hell I ended up here. I'm so sorry," Damian said, his voice tight with distress.

A stinging slap landed on Rosslyn's face, the force of it sending a wave of shock through her. "You bitch!" Travis roared, his finger jabbing towards her. His eyes, filled with a volcanic rage, were locked on her, his fury a tangible presence in the room. He saw his precious little sister in tears, and it ignited a firestorm within him. "Why did you go after Damian? If you're in need, look for someone else. Slut!" he spat, his words dripping with venomous disdain. He seemed oblivious to the pain he was inflicting, not even acknowledging that she was his sister too.

Rosslyn stared at Damian, still holding Vivian in a comforting embrace, his words of apology a repetitive mantra that seemed to offer no solace. Their eyes met, hers brimming with tears, his emotionless and cold, as if she were nothing more than a speck of dust on the floor.

She lowered her head, defeated. Trying to explain herself felt futile; they all accused her as if this were something she had deliberately sought out. The truth was, she had no recollection of the night after she retreated to her room, exhausted and drunk. She'd chalked it up to a dream, nothing more, until she was abruptly awakened at 3:00 AM seeing Damian by her side.

Too tired to defend herself, and knowing no one would truly care for her explanation, she picked up her purse, her heart heavy with heartache and tears. She left the room, her shoulders slumped with a crushing sense of despair.

Tears streamed down her face as she walked away from the mansion, her steps heavy with grief. She walked, sobbing, until she reached the main gate, her heart a shattered mirror reflecting the pain of a love that had never truly been. She hailed a taxi, her sobs muffled against the back of the seat, and drove back to her condo.

Once inside, she collapsed on her bed, her body racked with sobs that echoed through the empty room. She curled up, seeking solace in the familiar comfort of her bed, and finally, as exhaustion claimed her, she drifted into a restless sleep, her dreams filled with the ghosts of a love that had once seemed so real, but now felt like a fading echo of the past.

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