Back From Prison, Built For Revenge - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

The bandage on Chloe's arm was a stark white slash against her dress. Her gaze swept over the dinner table, eyes holding the cold, flat emptiness of a frozen lake.
Hayden strode closer, then, his eyes immediately locking onto her bandaged arm. "Why didn't you say you were hurt?" he demanded, brows tightened. "Were you trying to upset Grandma on purpose?"
His voice was low, but it cracked with aggression. Chloe let out a cold laugh. "Do I need to report my injuries to you now? Or have I lost the freedom to even get hurt?"
Her words struck him silent. He stared at her face, so calm it was almost vacant, and a hot spike of irritation shot through him.
"I'm worried about Grandma," he growled. "This will break her heart."
Chloe's eyebrow arched, "Is this about her feelings, or is it just another excuse for you?"
Her words sliced through his flimsy pretense. Hayden's face paled, but he had no rebuttal. He knew that no matter what he said, it couldn't change the past. It was him who had chosen to sacrifice Chloe to protect Yolanda.
The air grew thick and heavy. As if knowing exactly what he was thinking, Chloe lowered her gaze to the bandage on her arm.
"And this?" she mocked. "This is nothing. Compared to what I went through in prison, a scratch like this isn't even worth mentioning."
Her words were a stone dropped into the silent lake of their family dinner, the ripples spreading outwards.
"What?" Phoebe gasped. Her eyes, wide with a horrified, dawning guilt, fixed on Chloe. "Chloe, what happened to you in prison?"
Chloe didn't answer. She was gone, pulled back into the darkness of another time, another place.
In her memory, the cell was damp, and the air was thick with the stench of mold. Chloe sat in a corner, curled into a tight ball, trying to make herself small enough to disappear. Around her, low snickers echoed, and those eyes, cold and venomous like snakes, fixed on her, leaving her nowhere to hide.
"Look at her," one of them sneered, swaggering over. "The little princess. Now she's just another inmate." She kicked the basin next to Chloe, sending it clattering across the room.
Chloe looked up, her eyes empty as she stared at the inmate in front of her.
"What? You got a problem with that?" another inmate chimed in, hauling her to her feet. "I heard you were the great Miss Stone. What happened to you? You look like trash now."
Before Chloe could answer, a bucket of ice-cold water drenched her from head to toe. The shock stole her breath, but she clenched her jaw, refusing to make a sound.
"Tough one, isn't she?" The inmate dropped the empty bucket. "Don't worry. We'll break her eventually."
The memory shattered. Chloe slowly lifted her head and looked at Phoebe's paper-white face. "You ask what happened?" she murmured. "Just a few of the 'house rules.' Getting doused with cold water, being tripped in the yard, having your food stolen... Things like that. Surely that's nothing you'd lose sleep over, right?"
Phoebe shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. "I didn't know you've been through these... "
"Then who was it that signed the papers to send me there?" Chloe's laugh was brittle. "Who was it that looked the other way while all of it happened?"
The accusation hung in the air, heavy and irrefutable. Phoebe's shoulders began to shake. She covered her face, sobbing, not daring to take a step closer to Chloe.
Hayden, who had been standing by in stony silence, finally spoke. "That's enough. There's no point in bringing up the past!"
His voice was powerful, but it couldn't hide the tremor of guilt beneath it. He looked at Chloe, the cold mask slipping for just a second. "You're back now, Chloe. That's what matters. Let the past go."
"Is that so?" A deeply ironic smile spreaded across Chloe's face. "That's not what you said three years ago, when you pushed me down the stairs right before you sent me to prison."
The room went dead silent. Hayden's face turned to thunder. His fists clenched at his sides as he took a menacing step toward her.
"What are you talking about?" he barked. "Don't spew lies!"
"You know well if I'm lying." Chloe met his furious gaze without flinching, her words sharp as razor wire. "Three years ago, when I was found unconscious at the bottom of the stairs, who was the first one on the scene to swear it was just an accident?"
The revelation was a thunderclap. Everyone stared, stunned—including Yolanda. She stood in the corner, clenching her fists so tightly, but her face was still a perfect portrait of tragic innocence.
"Chloe," Yolanda choked out. "What happened back then... it was all a misunderstanding. I never, ever meant for you to get hurt."
"Shut up," Chloe snapped, her eyes flashing like cold steel. "Don't you dare try to disgust me with your pity party."
Silence reigned again. Finally, Hayden couldn't take it anymore. "I said let it go!" he roared. "Stop causing trouble."
Chloe scoffed, "So you think any part of what happened to me can just go? You think there's anything left for me to get over?"
Without another word, she turned and walked out of the dining room, not once looking back at the stunned faces.
The suffocating atmosphere of the house eventually drove her outside into the garden's cool air. She stood under the portico, staring out and watching the flowers in the garden rustled by the night breeze.
Just then, a familiar, cool voice spoke from behind her. "Are you alright?"
Chloe knew it was Carlos before turning to see. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, he stood there with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a box of medicine. Somehow, his relaxed grace was a threat in itself.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice devoid of emotion.
Carlos smiled faintly, holding out the box to her. "I heard you were hurt. This is for you."
"I don't need it." Chloe turned to leave, but he caught her arm firmly. He moved closer, and his face was just inches from hers. She could even feel his breath. "Three years, and you're still just as stubborn," said Carlos.
"Let go," she said, her voice dropping to an icy whisper. But Carlos didn't move. "Don't forget," he murmured, voice low and intimate. "You and I still have a score to settle."
Their gazes locked for a moment, but the tense moment was soon broken by the sound of footsteps from the house. It was Hayden.
"Mr. Lambert," Hayden spoke up. He stood in the doorway, his eyes turning to frost when he saw Carlos. "It's late to be paying a house call, don't you think?"
Carlos's lips curved into a smirk. He casually tossed the medicine box to Hayden, "Tell Chloe to take care of herself." He said. With that, he turned and walked away into the night.