Chapter 2: Betrayal on the Hill
A headscarf, the world’s richest country—Dubai is a kingdom in many people’s eyes. But in recent years, scams have been rampant. Stories of people being lured there and waking up with missing kidneys are everywhere.
Even though my stepsister, always leaning on my stepmother’s status, bullied me and never took me seriously, I still advised her not to go. After all, we’re family.
Back then, Neha slapped me hard across the face, cursing me for being jealous of the rich and not wanting her to have a good life.
I kept my eyes on the floor, toes curling into the cracked linoleum, waiting for the sting. I endured the pain and still tried to persuade her, warning that if something dangerous happened, it’d be too late for regrets. By then, even my stepmother and dad would be heartbroken.
To stop her in time, I spent all my savings from months of scrimping, found real-life scam victims to talk to her, and watched over her day and night.
She hated me so much during that time, hitting and cursing me every day, even planning to run away on her own. But because I never left her alone, disaster was averted.
As she saw more and more real cases, she finally wavered. She deleted the Dubai prince’s contact and broke up.
I was overjoyed—my efforts had paid off.
So I introduced her to a 6-foot-tall, good-looking guy with a stable government job, covered her wedding expenses, gave her a car and money.
But after marriage, because her husband couldn’t afford a designer bag worth lakhs, Neha was full of resentment.
She said she regretted listening to me, that she should’ve gone to Dubai and become a princess.
Over time, she came to hate me completely.
Taking advantage of the monsoon family trip, she pushed me off a hill.
Jagged rocks pierced my head. I died instantly.
My dad and stepmother just stood there coldly, watching it all happen. Their faces didn’t change, not even a flicker of guilt. I’d never been their daughter—just the price of their disappointment.
Even they thought I’d ruined Neha’s chance to become a princess, and cost them a life of luxury.
In the end, they took all my savings and spent it with her.
The family I treated with kindness, sincerity, and patience treated my life like I was livestock.
If that’s how it is, then all three of you can go to Dubai together and have your fun.
That day, as the rain pounded the windshield of our hired Sumo, the wipers squeaking like tired old aunties, I’d stared at my stepmother’s gold bangles catching the flash of lightning. Raindrops drummed on the Sumo’s roof as my blood soaked into the mossy stones below. My father’s eyes never met mine, glued as they were to his phone, pretending ignorance. In those final moments, I realised: their love was just another transaction. The echo of my own scream, tumbling down into the churning green, was all the farewell I got.