I Am Done Protecting You

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The chime of the system echoed in the hollows of my skull just as I reached the center of the living room.

Only ten minutes ago, my younger sister had been sobbing in my arms, her face a mask of fragile beauty as she begged for reassurance that I wouldnt abandon her once I was married.

Now, Gilbert, my fiancthe man who hadnt uttered a word in the seven years Id known himwas using his hands to shatter my world.

His fingers moved with clinical precision. Your sister is pregnant. Then, the follow-up, a jagged blade of a sentence: The child is mine.

I stood frozen, the air leaving my lungs in a slow, painful hiss. He reached into his pocket and produced a lab report, the DNA results confirming the biological link between him and the fetus.

We did it many times while you were at work, his signs were sharp, colored with a mockery he no longer bothered to hide. We tried every position to make sure she conceived. He paused, a cruel glint in his eyes. Remember when she got sick at dinner last week? You were so sweet, rubbing her stomach to settle her nausea. You had no idea you were touching my child.

He continued, his movements fluid and cold. The hospital confirmed it today. Three months. Shes fragile, Jolie. She knew the risks to her heart, but she insisted on carrying my baby anyway. He let out a silent, huffing laugh. Its your fault, really. You didnt watch her closely enough.

Then, the killing blow: So, whether that baby lives or dies depends on just how heartless you want to be as a sister.

My heart felt as though a cold, invisible hand had squeezed it until the valves began to pop. The pain was so acute I could barely breathe.

They would never know. They would never understand that the "Redemption Mission" I had accepted seven years ago was meant for both of them. I was their savior, and they were my assignment.

I took a shuddering breath and spoke into the silence of my mind. Im done. Abort the mission. I choose to terminate and return home.

...

[Warning: Once the mission is abandoned, the world-line will revert to its original trajectory. The final fates of the target characters will be irreversible. Does the Host confirm?]

Confirm.

[Extraction sequence initiated. T-minus 72 hours until biological shutdown.]

As the mechanical voice faded, a tidal wave of agony washed over my nervous system. I looked at the man standing before me, my throat so dry it felt like it was lined with glass.

Why? I managed to choke out.

Gilbert looked at my reddened eyes. There wasnt a flicker of guilt on his faceonly a terrifying, flat calm. He walked over to the master bedroom closet and yanked out my wedding dress. The one I had spent months designing.

My eyes snagged on the fabric. There were stiff, yellowish stains across the delicate lace of the bodice.

I had sewn every bead onto that dress. Every stitch had been a prayer for our future.

You were always working late, his hands signed, nonchalant. You left Maisie and me alone in this house. Fire was inevitable. Our bodies fit together in a way yours never did.

He took his time, savoring the destruction. Maisie is young. Shes... adventurous. She would cry and say she was sorry to her big sister, but then she would wrap herself around me and wouldn't let go.

We did it on this dress, Jolie. Over and over again.

I stared at him. The face was the same one I had loved for nearly a decade, but I couldn't recognize the soul behind it anymore.

Ive told you everything now, Gilbert continued. Youre her sister. Youre my fiance. Youre supposed to be the "big" person here. You should accept us.

He seemed certain I would bow my head. He expected me to cave, just as I had a thousand times before. After all, our weddingthe day we had supposedly dreamed of for seven yearswas only two weeks away.

I swallowed the metallic taste of blood rising in my throat and looked him dead in the eye.

The wedding is off.

I said it clearly. No tremor. No hesitation.

Gilberts expression darkened instantly.

The invitations are out, he signed aggressively. Don't start acting like a martyr now. Maisie is carrying my child. Were a family. The three of us.

Family. The word felt like a joke.

When I first arrived in this world, the system told me the predetermined ending if I failed. Once I left, the erasure protocol would trigger within three days. Without my "redemption," Gilbert would spiral back into his dark, obsessive psychosis and eventually be butchered in an alley by the creditors he owed. Maisie, deprived of the expensive care I provided, would suffer a fatal heart failure.

Seven years. I had exhausted every system point, nearly traded my own life to pull these two out of the abyss and into the light.

The progress bar was at 99%.

I was one step away. After the wedding, they would have been "saved," and I would have earned a lifetime of peace.

And yet, they chose this moment to gut me.

Why now? I gritted my teeth. Why wait until now to tell me?

Gilberts face remained a mask of indifference.

Maisies bump is starting to show. She needs status. Besides... He paused, his hands slowing down. Who else is going to want a woman who cant even get pregnant?

The truth hit me like a physical blow.

He let out a sharp, mocking breath. Youre the one who forced your way into my life, Jolie. You dont get to decide when it ends. You don't have the right.

I looked at the face I had adored and felt nothing but a profound, sickening sense of the absurd.

Memories flashed like a strobe light. The first time I met Gilberthe was a shut-in, drowning in silence and trauma. I spent nights learning ASL, endured the whispers and the laughter of his peers just to stay by his side. I was the one who reached into the mud and pulled him out.

Then there was Maisie. Our parents, dying in the wreckage of a car crash, had pressed her into my arms with their final breaths. They begged me to save herthe sister with the failing heart. I had spent countless nights carrying her into ERs, signing consent form after consent form, dragging her back from the brink of death.

Back then, Gilbert filled sketchbooks with thousands of portraits of me. He signed oaths that I was his only salvation. Maisie used to wait up for me until midnight, her thin, fragile frame making my heart ache with a protective ferocity.

I had loved them more than my own life.

To fund his galleries, to buy her imported heart medication, I had worked myself into the ground. I had worked through stomach hemorrhages; I had pushed myself so hard the doctors told me my body was too stressed to ever carry a child.

I didn't care. Not then.

But I never imagined the people I saved would be the ones to push me off the cliff. It was almost poetic. They had spent seven years sharpening the blade, waiting for the perfect moment to slide it between my ribs.

Gilbert, you disgust me.

My eyes were raw, but my gaze was steady. For a second, he flinched at the sheer finality in my look.

I disgust you? His brow furrowed, looking at me like a temperamental child. If you had just been obedient, we could have gone on like always.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped through a few photos before shoving the screen in my face.

They were private photos. Intimate. Explicit. Photos of me taken while I was sleeping or in moments I thought were private.

He scrolled, a cruel curve touching his lips. Think about how the board at your firm would react if they saw these. What would the world think of the "Saintly Jolie" then?

Give me that! I lunged for the phone, my heart hammering.

I gave you a chance, Jolie. You pushed me.

Before I could reach him, his thumb tapped the screen. The whoosh of an outgoing message echoed in the silent room.

Then, my own phone began to explode. Notifications, group chat pings, DMsa digital wildfire.

Gilbert looked down at me from his height. Now that your career is dead, what else can you do but marry me? Be a good girl. Close the deal. And maybe at night, you can listen through the walls to how a real woman sounds.

Seven years of blood, sweat, and tearsmy entire career, my reputationgone in a single click.

I collapsed onto the hardwood floor, a high-pitched ringing in my ears.

Gilbert... everything I did... the career, the money... it was all for you.

He turned his back on me, his fingers moving one last time. That was your choice. Nobody told you to be a martyr.

He locked the door from the outside, leaving me in the dark.

The silence was absolute. A dull, heavy throb began in my chest. I could feel my life forcethe "Host energy"slowly leaking out of my pores.

Three days. Just a few more dozen hours, and Id be back in my own world.

I sat there on the floor all night. When the gray morning light finally bled through the curtains, the door clicked open.

Maisie walked in.

She looked pale, her beauty delicate and ethereal. She shot a timid look at Gilbert in the hallway before dropping to her knees in front of me.

Jolie, please... don't be mad at Gilbert.

Her eyes went red instantly, tears spilling down her cheeks like perfect pearls.

Its my fault. All of it. Youve always taken care of me, youve always loved me most. Please, just forgive me this one time.

She reached out with a thin, trembling hand to touch my sleeve. I recoiled, pulling away from her touch.

Her hand froze in mid-air. She didn't look embarrassed, only deeply, performatively sad.

Im so sick, Jolie. And I was so lonely.

As I looked at her "innocent" face, I saw my parents' dying eyes. I saw her hooked up to an oxygen mask, begging me not to leave her. I had sworn at their graves that I would protect her from everything.

I didn't realize I was the one she needed protecting from.

I watched her performance in icy silence. My lack of reaction started to crack her mask. She looked up, and for a second, the spite leaked through.

Why cant you just share, Jolie? You have everything. A healthy body, a glittering career... everyone loves you. But look at me! Im broken! I cant even run or jump like a normal person!

Her voice rose, her thin frame shaking. I just wanted a piece of warmth for myself! Is that so wrong? You can still be his wife. I just want to be with you both. Why do you have to be so dramatic?

She was using "love" as a weapon to justify the theft of my life. She honestly believed my "intolerance" was the problem.

I stood up, refusing to look at her for another second.

Maisie, youre both pathetic. And you're both filthy.

The words hit her like a slap. Her eyes widened, and her face suddenly turned a terrifying shade of purple. She began to gasp, her hands clawing at her chest.

Jolie... why... it hurts... Gilbert! Help me!

Gilbert burst into the room, lunging past me to catch her before she hit the floor.

A sound broke from his throata strangled, guttural sob. The man who was mute by choice was finally making noise, and it was for her. He held her against his chest, his eyes filled with a terrifying, overflowing agony.

He looked at me, his hand signing with a violent, jagged speed. Did you have to push her? Shes your sister! How can you be so cold?

For a split second, my muscle memory took over. I moved to grab her emergency medication from the nightstand.

But I stopped.

The sister I had sacrificed everything for was cradled in the arms of the man I was supposed to marry.

The absurdity of it finally broke me. I stood there, paralyzed, as the sirens of an ambulance began to wail in the distance, cutting through the quiet morning.

At the hospital, the ER doctor handed over a critical notice. Acute heart failure brought on by severe emotional stress. She needed an immediate transfusion and stabilization, or she wouldn't last the night.

The hospitals blood bank was low on her rare type.

We were sisters. We shared the same blood. In the past, I had considered that bond my greatest blessing.

Gilbert grabbed my wrist, dragging me toward the donation room.

Give her your blood. Save her. His grip was like iron. Its your responsibility. Youre her sister. You cant just watch her die.

The nurse approached with a thick needle. I fought them, kicking and screaming, trying to wrench my arm free.

Let me go! Don't touch me!

But Gilbert stepped closer, pinning my shoulders down against the chair. He was incredibly strong, and he used his weight to crush me into the seat until I couldn't move.

The needle slid into my vein.

My struggle only resulted in a smear of red across the vinyl. My warm blood began to flow through the tube, destined for Maisie.

As the bags filled, the world began to dim. The room spun.

And then, a sharp, white-hot cramp bloomed deep in my abdomen. It felt like a hand was inside me, tearing at my insides.

I went pale, cold sweat soaking my hair. The nurse noticed something was wrong and stopped the flow, calling for a doctor.

After a series of frantic tests, the doctor looked at me with profound pity.

Ms. Harold, you were nearly two months pregnant.

My brain went numb.

You were already severely dehydrated and exhausted. The stress and the forced blood draw... it triggered a miscarriage. Im so sorry. We couldn't save the pregnancy.

The words were a thunderclap. I stared at the ceiling, a single, hot tear tracking down my temple.

I was pregnant.

The one thing I thought was impossible had happened quietly, a tiny miracle growing in the middle of a nightmare. And before I even knew he existed, he had been sacrificed to save his aunt.

His own father had held me down while they drained the life out of us both.

I don't remember the surgery. Afterward, I stood by the window of my hospital room, barefoot on the cold floor. The wind blew through the open pane, tossing my hair, but my mind had never been clearer.

My heart was gone. It had been shredded along with that tiny life.

The door opened. Gilbert pushed Maisie in a wheelchair. With my blood in her veins, her color had returned. She looked refreshed.

Jolie, don't be too sad, Maisie said, her voice a sugary silk. Some things just aren't meant to be. You couldn't keep him... maybe he just didn't belong to you. But its okay! My baby is strong. I can have this child for all of us.

She reached out to pat my hand with her faux-sympathy. I jerked away, my skin crawling.

Gilbert watched my cold reaction and let out a long, weary sigh.

You can't blame Maisie for this, he signed. Your body was always too weak to carry a child. It happened. Now, just focus on being an aunt to Maisies baby. We can still be

Gilbert, you are a monster.

Every drop of blood in me felt like ice.

You think Im going to help you raise your mistake? You think that can replace what you just killed?

The last of his patience snapped. He stepped forward, grabbing my jaw, forcing me to look into his dark, violent eyes.

A bunch of cells? Youre going to mourn that? You couldn't even satisfy me in bed, Jolie. You think youd be a good mother? Maisie is giving you a gift by letting you be part of this. Be grateful.

Seven years of soul-crushing "redemption." Seven years of guarding their lives with my own.

It ended in a hospital room with a mans hand on my throat and my sisters smile.

I didn't have the strength to argue anymore. The anger evaporated, leaving only a hollow, black void. I didn't owe them a single breath.

The systems voice chimed one last time.

[Detection: Host Despair Level at 100%. Extraction sequence finalized. Protocol: Immediate.]

I stepped onto the windowsill. I looked back one last time at the two of them, their faces finally shifting from arrogance to a sudden, piercing terror.

They lunged for me, screaming my name.

I closed my eyes and let myself fall backward into the light.