The Cry Lost in the Wind

1
The day I got my cancer diagnosis, tabloids ran photos of my husband at a prenatal check-up with his intern.
My son Jamie smashed my phonefor the first time, father and son united against me.
Im married to Amy now, my husband Marcus sneered. You wont chase her away like you did Vera.
Jamie held up his name-change papers proudly. "I took Aunt Amys last name too! Were the real family!"
I crumpled the diagnosis, clinging to dignity. "Then lets divorce."
Marcus laughed. "Divorce? We were never married. Just get out if youre leaving."
Jamie shoved me toward the door. "Get out!"
As the door slammed shut, I called my mother-in-law. "You heard himyoull agree now."
She sighed. "Raina, the Cole family wronged you years ago."
I hung up. Suddenly, a white snake lunged at me, fangs sinking into my arm.
From the balcony, Jamie cheered. "Good job, Snowy! Teach her to tattle on Aunt Amydie!"
My arms puncture wounds turned blackish-purple. I scrambled to my car, but a Maybach slammed into it, flipping it over.
Marcus stared through the shattered windshield, eyes cold as the snakes. "You lied about cancer? Lets see if you die this time."
His car sped off, my screams lost to the wind.
...
The wind cut through me like a harbinger of death. I squeezed my arm, trying to slow the venom's spread. My cries finally attracted a passerby. As he helped me into his car, he muttered, "Did you cross the mob or something?"
A bitter smile touched my lips. "Maybe."
I barely made it to the hospital, only to find the emergency room deserted.
"Mr. Cole's new wife had a scare with the baby," a young nurse explained, rolling her eyes. "All the doctors are with her." She lowered her voice. "Honestly, she just ate too much, but she's claiming it was a shock. Figures. When you've got someone to dote on you, you can be as dramatic as you want."
When she saw my arm, her casual demeanor vanished. She rushed to get a doctor, but Marcus blocked her path.
"It's a pet snake. How venomous can it be? She's faking."
Jamie puffed out his chest. "Yeah! Even I can play with Snowy. That bad woman is just trying to bully my mom!"
The son I had carried for ten months, calling another woman "mom," and me, a "bad woman."
I collapsed at the door, my nails digging into the frame. "Please," I begged, "help me..." I wasn't afraid to die, but I refused to die here, in his territory.
Marcus's gaze flickered for a second as he saw my swollen, discolored arm, but then he sneered. "That's an old trick, Raina. You could at least try to be more creative."
Amy fluttered her eyelashes. "Wow, sis, you must have used a lot of eyeshadow to get that effect."
Jamie, her loyal little soldier, immediately pounced on me, pinching my arm hard. "I'll expose her!"
The new life I had nurtured with my own blood and love had become my abuser's sharpest weapon. When rubbing didn't work, he ran to get a knife, intending to scrape the "makeup" off.
A doctor quickly intervened, examining the two puncture wounds. "This is definitely a snakebite. We need to start treatment immediately!"
"Liar! Snowy doesn't bite people! She's faking!" Jamie shrieked, swinging the small knife toward my wound.
The doctor stopped him. "Mr. Cole, this is not a bite from a common pet snake. Please, tell me what kind of snake it was so we can administer the correct antivenom."
Marcus scoffed. "Didn't you say you have cancer? You're going to die anyway, why waste the serum?"
"Mr. Cole, this is a matter of life and death!" the doctor pleaded. "This is not the time for games. Every second we delay puts the patient in more danger!"
A flicker of doubt crossed Marcus's cold eyes. Seeing this, Amy let out an exaggerated sigh. "Wow, sis, you're amazing. You can get any man to rush to your defense, can't you?"
The temperature in the room plummeted. The look Marcus gave me was more venomous than any snakebite. "Throw her out! I want to see if a pet snake can actually kill someone."
Two security guards dragged me away. I watched in horror as Jamie slammed the door shut. The heavy frame crushed my fingers, sending a white-hot bolt of pain through me. A cold sweat broke out all over my body as the icy grip of death closed in.
Just as I was about to fall into the abyss, a hand grabbed mine. "It's a long shot, but we have to try! Don't give up!"
I had a brush with death, but I survived. After checking my vitals, the doctor let out a long breath. "We took a gamble and used the right antivenom, but you missed the optimal treatment window. You've lost most of the function in your arm."
"But," he added, looking at my chart, "I've seen your cancer diagnosis. Luckily, we caught it early. With aggressive treatment, you can beat this."
I managed a dry laugh. "I'll take your word for it."
After being discharged, I had just stepped out of the hospital when everything went black. I came to in a moving car. The familiar streets flashing by filled me with a primal fear. We arrived at our destination, and a pellet, shot from an air gun, hit me squarely in the temple. I collapsed, blood beading on the pristine lawn like a string of crimson pearls.
For five years, Jamie and I had clung to each other for warmth. Two souls rejected by Marcus, we would lie in bed at night, counting the stars, secretly wiping away each other's tears, and wishing for a kinder tomorrow.
"Mommy," he would whisper, his small arms wrapped around my neck, "next time Daddy gets angry, you can hide behind me."
But then Amy appeared. It took only one night for Jamie's initial dislike to blossom into adoration. Under her tutelage, he learned that by hurting me, he could earn Marcus's affection.
"Good job," Marcus would say, ruffling his hair. That one phrase was enough to erase any lingering guilt Jamie might have felt.
"But it's not enough," Marcus would add, his eyes like shards of ice. He hated me to his core. "That pathetic, victim act of yours might fool my parents, but it will never fool me!"
"Oh no!" Amy would cry. "What if your parents believe her again and try to break us up?"
"They won't!" Marcus's voice would rise, his fists clenching. "I won't let history repeat itself!"
It was only then that I understood how terribly wrong my "rescue" of him had been.
Six years ago, Marcus had been abandoned by Vera, the love of his life. He developed severe PTSD, spiraling into a cycle of manic depression and self-harm, pushing everyone away. My own family had just fallen on hard times. My online plea for help was seen by Marcus's mother. Realizing I was the daughter of an old family friend, she took me in.
To repay her kindness, I took on the impossible task of helping Marcus heal. For countless days, I endured his verbal and physical abuse. On more nights than I could count, I woke up with his hands around my throat. He would confuse me with Vera, sometimes begging for forgiveness, other times raging with accusations. I bore it all in silence. A year later, he was better. But his mind, as a defense mechanism, had rewritten history. In his new reality, I was a gold-digger who had forced my way into his life and driven Vera away. His doctors advised me to let him believe it, to become the villain in his story.
I had nearly lost my life saving him, and this was my reward.
He had the butler bring the family whip. "Slandering others with your lies," he'd said, his voice dangerously low. "Do you admit your mistake?"
CRACK!
The whip tore through my skin. My strength evaporated.
Blood and sweat mingled on my skin. I bit the inside of my cheek until it bled. "You're the one who's mistaken!"
CRACK!
"Admit it!"
He put all his strength into it. I felt my soul being ripped from my body. A strangled sound escaped my throat, but I couldn't form any words.
CRACK!
"Say it! Say you were wrong!"
My clothes were shredded, sticking to my raw flesh. "I... was wrong..." I whispered, my breath failing.
Another lash. "Louder!"
Blood trickled down my back, pooling on the floor.
"Oh, dear," Amy gasped. "My shoes."
Jamie immediately knelt and picked up her stilettos. Seeing a speck of blood on them, he kicked me hard. "You witch! You got Mommy's shoes dirty!"
Marcus glanced over, his voice softening as he spoke to Amy. "Don't be upset, darling. I'll buy you new ones."
The hatred in Amy's eyes faded, replaced by a simpering sweetness. "You were a little rough with her, honey. She looks like she's in a lot of pain."
Marcus laughed coldly. "She's a great actress. You could hit her, and she'd still pretend it hurts."
"Really? Let me try." She took the whip, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Marcus came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and patiently explained the proper technique. "Careful now, don't hurt yourself." He sounded as if he were teaching her to play golf, as if the person at their feet wasn't a living, breathing human being.
Amy, who bore a slight resemblance to Vera, brought the whip down with even more force than Marcus had. Pain wracked my body. I choked back a mouthful of blood.
"It's true!" she squealed with delight. "I barely used any force, and she's acting like she's dying." She held her hand out to Marcus. "You made me hold this nasty thing. My hand hurts."
He kissed her fingers and led her to the sofa, ordering the bodyguards to continue. They hesitated, but his voice was sharp. "If you don't do it, you'll be next!"
The whip whistled through the air. Amy covered her eyes, crying, "It's too scary!"
Jamie took her hand. "Let's go upstairs, Mommy. I bought you some beautiful flowers."
Marcus stood up as well. "Don't stop," he commanded, "until I say so."
But I passed out long before I heard the word "stop."
When I woke up, only my assistant was by my side. "Mr. and Mrs. Cole know what happened. They'll be here this evening." She looked at me with pity. "Mr. Cole announced this morning that Amy has been appointed as a director. You've been... reassigned to the warehouse."
"Some of your colleagues tried to speak up for you, but they were fired on the spot."
I could tell she had also been affected. I patted her hand. "Then come with me. We'll go abroad." Marcus's mother had promised me this. To compensate, she was giving me control of their overseas operations.
Her eyes widened. "Abroad? You're the new CEO they've been talking about?"
I smiled, which pulled at the wounds on my back. Wincing, I said, "Help me contact someone."
That evening, Marcus's parents came straight to the hospital from the airport. They promised me justice. At nine o'clock, the cream of society gathered at the Cole family estate for a grand gala.
My carefully chosen gown hid the ugly whip marks. I stepped out of the car in high heels, entering this house for the last time. A bodyguard blocked my way. "No unauthorized personnel." It was the man who had whipped me yesterday. He held his arm out, barring my path, his eyes filled with contempt. After five years of pouring my life into this family, I was now a nobody, someone anyone could step on.
I lifted my chin. "I was invited." I didn't reveal that I was the guest of honor. I simply handed him my invitation.
The next second, Jamie was pointing a toy gun at me. "She's a thief! Don't let her in!" From a distance, Amy shot me a triumphant look. This was her doing, of course.
The bodyguard straightened up, tossing my invitation aside. "We'll have to search you."
The guests around us scattered like I had the plague. This was the ultimate humiliation. In front of everyone. I tried to back away, but strong hands seized me. The pain and shame were unbearable. "Marcus!" I cried out. "Is this how you treat your guests?"
His eyes narrowed, turning even colder when he saw the guard's hands on my waist. "Fine," he sneered. "Then take it off yourself."
Amy, nestled in his arms, giggled and playfully punched his chest. "Honey, you're so naughty. If she really takes it off, how will she ever show her face in public again?"
Marcus raised his voice, making sure everyone could hear. "A woman who sleeps her way to the top doesn't care about things like that."
"Either you take it off, or you get out!" His glare was sharp enough to cut. "Don't be a hypocrite!"
Our eyes met across the room. A wave of despair washed over me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood and slowly, deliberately, pulled down the zipper of my dress. "Marcus, I truly regret the day I saved you."
With every inch the zipper descended, another inch of my scarred, mangled back was revealed. I heard gasps from the crowd. "What is that? Is she a monster? It's hideous..."
Marcus's eyes flickered. For a second, it looked like he remembered something, but then he shook his head, chasing the fleeting images away. "Nonsense!" he snapped. "What are you waiting for? Help her!"
They tore at my clothes, ignoring my struggles. Every inch of my skin was violated. They found the newly formed scabs from the whipping and ripped them open without hesitation. Blood splattered on the floor. I was too weak from the pain to fight back. I could only watch as my dress was torn from my body.
"Stop!"
My mother-in-law's voice cracked like a whip. A suit jacket was draped over my shoulders. She was trembling with rage. "Marcus, how could you do this? Raina is our family..."
"She's your family! I never agreed to it!" Even facing his parents, his anger barely subsided.
His mother pointed at Jamie. "You didn't agree to have a child with her? If she hadn't gotten pregnant, I never would have begged her to stay..."
Jamie shrank back, his eyes wide with terror. He clung to Amy, shaking his head frantically. "No! I wasn't born from that bad woman! I'm Amy's son!"
His mother froze, staring at them in disbelief. "Jamie, who taught you to say that? How can you disown your own mother?"
"Nobody taught me!" Jamie glanced at Amy, then pointed a defiant finger at me. "She's a wicked witch, not my mother!"
His mother swayed, nearly fainting. His father caught her, his face grim. "Marcus," the man in his fifties said, his voice laced with steel, "is this how you treat the person who saved your life?"
Marcus's head snapped toward me. "What lies have you been telling them now?"
His mother, having recovered slightly, told him the truth, her voice choked with sobs. "I've failed my dearest friend. I've ruined her daughter's life to save an ungrateful monster."
"And I've failed Raina," she cried. "She gave up everything for this family, for you, and ended up with cancer, only to be humiliated like this."
"If I had known, I would have told you from the beginning that Vera left you of her own accord. Then Raina wouldn't have had to suffer all these years..." She sank to her knees, weeping.
I moved to help her up, but Marcus grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall. This was his most common symptom when he had an episode. I had endured this feeling of suffocation for a year.
"Feel familiar, Marcus?" I rasped, my face turning purple, my eyes filled with scorn.
His grip faltered for a second, then tightened again. "You're lying!"
"Cancer? The wicked live long lives. You're not that easy to kill."
"And you dare to slander Vera! If it weren't for you, she never would have left me!" he roared, demanding proof.
His mother tried to speak again, but he silenced her with a shout. "Shut up! You're just as untrustworthy as she is!" The bodyguards moved in, restraining his parents.
This party, which was supposed to be my vindication, had become my execution.
He squeezed my throat, his eyes bloodshot. "You saved me? Vera abandoned me? Who can prove it?"
Below the stage, his parents were gagged. Onstage, I was being strangled.
His fingers tightened, his face contorted like a vengeful ghost. "No one can prove it! Because it never happened..."
"You're lying. And the price for lying... is death..."
"I can prove it!"
A clear, bright voice cut through the tension.
Marcus's pupils dilated. He turned, his movements stiff and robotic...

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