Chapter 4

After Mom also left, I once considered giving up.

Our impoverished family hadn't saved any money for my treatment.

The old apartment building I lived in wouldn't sell for much, and if I sold it, I'd lose my last refuge.

Instead of living a painful life with Butterfly Disease, maybe it was better to just end it.

But my neighbor, Landon, my childhood best friend, forcefully took away all the sharp objects in my house, his stern voice shattering my will to die.

"I haven't given up on you! How can you give up on yourself first?"

He, who had been studying abroad, resolutely applied for a leave of absence, then worked tirelessly to save money for my medical expenses.

No matter how hard or exhausting it was, he never, not for a single moment, thought about giving up on me, just as he'd said that day.

I had only helped him a few times when his parents died, hiding it from my family, and that's how we first connected.

Hurt by my family's blatant favoritism, and he, having lost his own family, we found solace in each other's company, licking our wounds, each other's only friend.

But I never imagined he would go to such lengths for me.

Encouraged by him, I regained my spirit and, a year ago, found a way to support myself by live-streaming my art.

Landon, reassured by my promise, finally felt at ease returning to his studies abroad. Before he left, he told me to wait for him.

To keep that promise, I silently endured the pain of my skin tearing again and again, striving to stay alive.

But now, my only means of livelihood was about to be cut off by my blood relatives.

【Support the billionaire dad in backing up the heiress! This woman has so much inexplicable malice towards the heiress, she's clearly an ungrateful snake!】

【Just ban her already, her face covered in blood is really unsettling. If you're sick, don't come out to annoy people, okay?】

【Exactly, look how optimistic our heiress is, unlike her, all gloomy and depressing, just looking at her makes you irritated.】

The live chat, which had calmed down, was now reignited with anger towards me by my dad's words.

The screen filled with curses, stinging my eyes, and my rationality wavered.

Was I wrong to try and live?

I was just quietly painting my art. My sister was the one who insisted on connecting with me.

Why, when I had finally managed to endure until now, to barely support myself through the torment of this disease, did they have to come and crush my hope?

I really wanted to keep my promise to Landon.

But now, it seemed I wouldn't be able to wait for him to return.

The skin on my face, which I hadn't had time to pay attention to, repeatedly tore and bled. My head was growing heavy.

But I, in a self-destructive way, listened to and watched my dad and the live chat's vicious words, letting my blood drain away.

I really couldn't hold on any longer.

What was the point of persisting in such a painful life?

Landon, I'm so sorry, I'm going to break my promise.

Just then, a familiar, warm voice echoed from the other side of the screen:

"Stop talking! Why are you doing this to her!"