Darn Stupid Brother You Are by Mairee

Chapter 101 (Ava's POV) I was crouched low against the cold corridor wall, and my fingers were trembling as I held the recording device Dr. Joe had forced into my hands earlier. The fight between Angel and Hendrix was happening just a few feet away. Their voices were raised but muffled by the closed gym door. I pressed my ear against the crack, straining to catch even fragments of their words.

"...abandoningfor Thomas..." "...what we had was wrong..." Their voices bled anger and heartbreak, yet I couldn't make out the full sentences. I adjusted the recorder, frustrated. This task-this sick, intrusive task-was another of Dr. Joe's clever traps. He'd said the information was crucial, but I knew better. He wanted leverage, ammunition to keep us all under his control.

A pang of jealousy twisted in my chest as I caught the faintest sound of Angel sobbing. Hendrix's voice softened, though the words still eluded me. They cared for each other, even in their twisted way. Step-siblings. Forbidden. It was insane and wrong, but at least they had someone. Someone who truly cared.

Unlike me.

I clenched the recorder in my hand, and the sharp edges dug into my palm. What did I have? A manipulative mother drowning in debt, and a life dictated by a man who sawas nothing more than a tool. I leaned back against the wall, and felt my chest tighten. How had my life becthis? By the tI returned to my room, I was shaking. I tossed the recorder onto the bed like it was a venomous snake, then slumped into the corner and rested my head against my knees. The walls seemed to close in harder than ever. Why had I agreed to spy for Dr. Joe? Why had I let him manipulatewith promises of freedom for my mother? The usual questions tumbled out of my mouth-my usual routine.

Am I doing the right thing? Of course. I'm saving her.

Am I a terrible person? Maybe. But what choice do I have? Do I even have a choice? No. Not really.

What if Angel finds out? She won't. She can't.

But if she does, would she understand? No. She'd hate me.

Do I deserve to be hated? Yes.

Tears slipped down my cheeks. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, furious at myself for breaking. I didn't have the luxury of falling apart. Not when my mother's life was in my hands.

But as the questions continued to swirl, a seed of doubt planted itself in my mind. Was Dr. Joe really going to letwalk away? Would I ever be free? Or was this just another endless cycle of control and manipulation? The knock on my door startled me, and for a moment, I panicked. Had Dr. Joe sent someone to check on me? I crossed the room and opened the door a crack. Dilrah stood on the other side, looking concerned. "Can I cin or are you busy now?" she asked quietly.

I hesitated but stepped aside, letting her in. She perched on the edge of the bed with her sharp eyes scanning my face.

"You look like hell," she said bluntly. "What's going on, Ava?" "Nothing," I muttered, avoiding her gaze.

"Bullshit." She leaned forward. "You've been off lately. Paranoid. Jumping at shadows. It's not like you. And this has been going on for weeks." For a moment, I wanted to tell her everything. To spill the truth about Dr. Joe, about the spying, about my mother. But I couldn't. I didn't trust her, not completely.

"I'm just tired," I said instead. "This place gets to you." Dilrah studiedfor a moment longer, then nodded. "Yeah, it does. But you'd better figure out how to handle it. You can't let it break you." Her words lingered long after she left, hauntingly remindingof the thin line I was walking. How much longer could I keep this up before it brokecompletely? (Dr. Nixon's POV) My hands trembled as I adjusted the stack of files on my desk, each one meticulously labeled and perfectly aligned. The inspection was days away, and I couldn't afford even the smallest mistake. Not when everything was riding on this.

I glanced at the clock on the wall, the ticking sound like a bell in my head. Dr. Joe's footsteps echoed down the hall and grew louder with each passing second. He was coming to check on me, to ensure everything was in order. My stomach turned as I double-checked the reports in front of me.

When he entered, his piercing blue eyes scanned the room with a cold efficiency that always leftunnerved. "Nixon," he said smoothly. "How's the preparation coming along?" "Everything is on schedule," I replied in a much more steadier manner than I felt.

He moved closer and narrowed his gaze as he inspected the files. "No mistakes, I trust?" "Of course not," I said quickly, though the intensity of his scrutiny made my heart race.

Dr. Joe picked up one of the files and flipped through it with a faint smirk. "Good. You know how much is at stake here, don't you?" "Yes," I said. "Do you?" He looked up, his eyes boring into mine. "Because if you slip up, it won't just be your position on the line. You know that, don't you?" Unable to find my voice, I nodded. A cruel curve appeared on his lips which sent a shiver down my spine.

"Good," he said and set the file down. "Don't disappoint me, Nixon."

As he left, I sank into my chair. My hands wouldn't stop shaking uncontrollably. The Xoom must have mugm dropped several degrees. I pressed my palms against my eyes, willing the panic to subside. I couldn't let him win. Not completely. Not again.

For years, I'd played the part of the obedient servant, doing his bidding and cleaning up his messes. But deep down, a part ofwas still mine. A part ofstill fought. I would survive this inspection. I would ensure everything went perfectly. And when the tcame, I would reveal to Dr. Joe exactly who I was.

The one who taught him everything he knows. The one who built this center from the ground up.

The one who would watch him fall.