Darn Stupid Brother You Are by Mairee

Chapter 92 (Bundah's POV) Charlotte's laugh was soft, like the flutter of bird wings. It wasn't often I heard it, but when I did, it made everything in this hellhole feel a little less grim. She was sitting across fromin the built-in library. Her lips were tugged into a small smile as she tried to read aloud from one of the French-English books we'd borrowed. Her accent still tripped over certain words, and each tshe stumbled, she'd giggle nervously and glance atfor reassurance. "You're getting better," I said as I leaned back in the rickety chair. "By next week, you'll be speaking English better than I do." She gavea disbelieving look and shook her head. "You're lying, Bundah," her broken English was charming. "But thank you for... how you say... the hope?" "The compliment," I corrected with a grin. "And it's not a lie." Her cheeks flushed, and she returned her focus to the book, but the moment of peace was short-lived. I noticed a group of guys lingering by the entrance, whispering and glancing our way. Their eyes were judgmental. I didn't like it. I'd overheard the rumors they'd been spreading about Charlotte-how she'd ended up at the center by mistake, how she didn't belong here, and worse, how she was an easy target because of her vulnerability.

"Stay here," I said abruptly and stood. Charlotte looked up, startled.

"Bundah? What are you doing?" "Just keep reading," I said and forced a smile before striding toward the group.

They straightened as I approached and their smirks faded. "Got something to say?" I asked in a deceptively calm tone.

One of them, a tall guy with a sneer permanently lined on his face, shrugged. "Just talking, man. Relax." "Yeah? Talking about what?" I took a step closer. "Because if it's about Charlotte, you better stop now." The sneer faltered, but he recovered quickly. "Why do you care? She's not your girl." "No, she's not," I said as my fists clenched at my sides. "But she's under my protection, and if I hear you or anyone else spreading crap about her again, we're gonna have a problem. Got it?" They exchanged uneasy glances before muttering something and walking away. I didn't move until they were out of sight. My chest was heaving with barely contained anger. When I turned back to Charlotte, she was watchingwith wide eyes.

"You... you didn't have to do that," she said softly as I returned to the table.

"Yes, I did," I replied, sitting down. "No one's gonna mess with you while I'm around." Her smile was faint, but it was there. "Thank you, Bundah." "Anytime," I said, meaning every word.

(Dilara's POV) I shouldn't have been walking alone. That much was obvious the moment I turned the corner and saw him leaning against the wall, waiting. My stomach dropped, and my legs froze mid-step. "Dilara," his voice was sickly sweet. "We meet again." I wanted to run, but my feet wouldn't move. My heart hammered in my chest as his gaze swept overas if enjoying the view of freshly roasted steak. "What do you want?" My voice was trembling despite my effort to sound strong.

He stepped closer, and I instinctively backed up, only to hit the cold wall behind me. "What do you think I want?" he said mockingly. "You think you can just walk around here like nothing happened? Like you didn't enjoy it?" My breath hitched, and a wave of nausea rolled through me. "You're disgusting," I spat and tried to summon scourage. "Stay away from me." He laughed in a way that made my skin crawl. "Oh, Dilara. You've always been good at playing the victim. But we both know the truth." He reached out as if to touch me, and panic instantly paralyzed me. Before I could think, I shoved him with all my strength, making him stumble back. "Don't you dare," I hissed. "Don't you ever touchagain." His expression darkened, and for a terrifying moment, I thought he was going to retaliate. But then, footsteps echoed down the hallway, and he stepped back as his lips curled into a sneer. "This isn't over," he said before disappearing around the corner.

I stood there, shaking and trying to catch my breath. The tears cunbidden. I felt so small, so powerless. Later that night, I found myself sitting cross-legged on Angel's bed. Thank goodness the rest were asleep. My hands were clutching the edge of the blanket like it was the only thing grounding me. Angel sat across from me, her knees drawn up to her chest, watchingwith those empathetic eyes of hers, the ones that made it impossible not to spill every secret you'd sworn to keep.

"I don't even know where to start," I said, trembling. The words felt like a poisonous fruit lodged in my throat for so long I didn't know how to let them out.

"Start wherever you need to," Angel said softly. "I'm here." I exhaled shakily. "It happened a year ago. I was at this party with a group of friends. It wasn't anything wild-just speople from my art class, hanging out, drinking a little. I remember feeling safe because everyone there was supposed to be someone I trusted. But then he showed up." Angel tilted her head slightly.

"He wasn't invited," I continued, and my grip tightened on the blanket. "But no one stopped him either. I guess that's just how it is when someone like him walks into a room. People look the other way. He started talking to me, making these.... comments about my art, about my body, about how I 'stood out.' At first, I thought he was just drunk and annoying, but then he wouldn't leavealone. He kept following me, corneringevery tI tried to move away." I paused and tried to catch my breath as the memories crushing back. "Eventually, I decided to leave. I thought if I got outside, I could shake him off. But when I went out into the backyard, he was there. Waiting. Like he'd been planning it." Angel's face hardened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. "What did he do, Dilara?" My throat burned, but I forced the words out. "He pinnedagainst the wall. Said I'd been 'teasing him all night' just by existing. I tried to push him away, to scream, but he was so much stronger. He covered my mouth and... and..." My voice broke, and I felt tears streaming down my face.

Angel moved closer and rested hand on mine. "You don't have to say it all if it's too much," she whispered. "No," I said firmly and wiped at my tears. "I need to. He assaulted me, Angel. Right there in the backyard, while everyone else was inside, laughing and drinking. And no one came. No one heard me. By the tI got away, it was too late." I closed my eyes as I felt the shand anger burningfrom the inside. "I didn't tell anyone for weeks. I thought it was my fault. That maybe I'd done something to lead him on. But then... I found out I'd contracted HIV because of him. That's when everything fell apart." Angel's gasp was sharp. Her eyes widened with shock. "Oh my God, Dilara..." "My parents didn't believewhen I finally told them," I said bitterly. "They said I was making excuses, that I was being tic. They shippedoff here, thinking this place would 'fix' me. Like I was the problem." I laughed humorlessly and shook my head. "But the worst part? He's here too. Walking these shalls, living his life like nothing happened." Angel's hands were trembling now as she gripped mine tighter. "Dilara, you didn't deserve that. None of it. And he sure as hell doesn't deserve to get away with it." Tears blurred my vision, but I managed to nod. "I just want him to feel what I felt, Angel. I want him to hurt the way he hurt me." Angel's voice was resolute. "He definitely will. We'll make sure of it." And for the first tin a long time, I felt like maybe, I wasn't completely alone.

I took a shaky breath, the words catching in my throat as I stared at my lap. Angel was patiently sitting there with an expression that was equal parts compassion and curiosity. I knew I couldn't stop now.

"There's more," I said quietly, "You've probably been wondering why I kept sneaking off to see Dr. Nixon back when I wasn't really talking to anyone." Angel nodded slowly. "Yeah. I figured you had your reasons, but... I always wondered."

"At first, it wasn't by choice," I admitted. "When I got here, Dr. Nixon immediately pulledaside during She intake. She looked at my file, and I could tell she knew. About the M assault About the HIV. She didn't say it outright, but it was there, in the way she looked at me." My fingers twisted nervously around the hem of my shirt. "She toldshe could help. That she'd seen cases like mine before and had access to treatments that could 'lessen the burden.' I didn't trust her, not entirely, but I was desperate. And it wasn't just that....." I glanced at Angel, my voice dropping. "I knew her. Not well, but from before. She used to work at the hospital where I went for my post-assault exams. She wasn't my doctor, but I saw her in the halls a few times. When she sawhere, she acted like she rememberedtoo. I guess that's why I thought maybe she could actually help." Angel's expression hardened. "And did she?" I hesitated. "Yes and no. She gavetreatments that stabilized my health, but there were always conditions. She wanted information-about the girls, the dorm, things I didn't even understand at the time. I thought she was just keeping tabs on the patients, but now I realize she was... manipulating me." Angel's face darkened. "She was using you." "Yes," I admitted bitterly. "But I kept going back because I needed answers. About him." "The guy who..." Angel's voice trailed off, but her meaning was clear.

I nodded. "His nis Ethan Crawford. He's from the next town over. His family is wealthy, powerful. He wasn't even supposed to be lat that party he was just there because his dad's company was sponsoring sstupid art scholarship, and he wanted to scope out 'easy targets.' That's what I overheard him telling his friends before he..." My voice cracked, and I took a moment to steady myself. "And the worst part?" I clenched my jaw and continued. "He's here because of his father. His dad is a major donor to the center, and Ethan got sent here after sscandal at his college. Apparently, this was supposed to be his 'rehabilitation."" Angel's eyes widened and her lips parted in shock. "Wait... Ethan Crawford? As in... Ava's ex-boyfriend Ethan Crawford?" "Yeah," I said bitterly with disgust. "She doesn't talk about him much, but I put it together. That's why I've been sneaking around, trying to figure out the connection. Ava has no idea what he did to me, and I don't think she'd believeif I told her. She worships his family." Angel's expression hardened; I could see the anger and disbelief swirling in her eyes. "So, Dr. Nixon knew all of this? About him, about you?"

I nodded. "She knew. And she hinted that Ethan's dad has more ties to the center than just donations. Something about the Crawfordsm being 'stakeholders' in sof the operations here. She didn't giveall the details, but I know there's more to it. That's why I can't just let this go, Angel. He's protected, by his family, by this place. And I..." My voice trembled as tears filled my eyes. "I don't know how to fight him on my own." Angel reached over and squeezed my hands tightly. "You're not on your own, Dilara. You have me, and you have the others. We'll figure this out. We'll make him pay." I wanted to believe her, to believe that I wasn't fighting a losing battle. But as the pressure of everything settled on my chest, I could only nod, hoping that Angel's determination was enough for both of us.