The Cruel Sister-in-law
The morning sun streamed into the laundry room off the kitchen. Emery stood at the ironing board, carefully pressing one of Jesse’s white dress shirts.
Kitty had spilled juice all over his shirt during breakfast, and now Jesse was running late for an important meeting. She moved the iron with steady, practiced strokes, trying to finish quickly so he could change and leave.
Harper walked in, still in her silk robe, just woken up. She stopped when she saw Emery working.
“What are you doing?” Harper asked, voice sharp.
Emery didn’t look up. “Kitty spilled juice on Jesse’s shirt. He’s getting late, so I’m ironing another one for him.”
Harper’s eyes narrowed. “Put that down. Handle Kitty instead. She’s crying in the living room.”
Emery kept ironing, voice calm but firm. “I will. But I have to finish this first. He needs to change.”
Harper stepped closer, irritation flashing across her face. “I said put it down. Now. I’ll deal with the shirt later. Go take care of my daughter.”
Emery finally looked up, meeting Harper’s gaze steadily. “I’m almost done. Just give me two minutes.”
Harper’s patience snapped. “You don’t get to decide what you do in this house. I told you to handle Kitty.”
“I said I need to do this first. Jesse has a meeting.” Emery said firmly. And... Maybe that was her biggest mistake.
Harper lunged forward, grabbed the hot iron from Emery’s hand, and slammed it down hard onto the back of Emery’s left hand, pressing it forcefully against her skin.
The pain was instant and blinding.
“Ahh!” Emery screamed... a sharp, agonized cry that echoed through the hallway. She yanked her hand away, the iron clattering to the floor. The burn was deep and angry, already blistering across her fair skin.
The scream drew immediate footsteps.
Jesse burst into the laundry room first, in his tshirt, followed closely by Ivy.
“What the hell happened?” Jesse demanded, eyes widening when he saw Emery cradling her burned hand, tears streaming down her face.
Harper crossed her arms, defensive. “She was being difficult. I told her to take care of Kitty and she refused.”
Jesse’s face twisted with fury. He stepped between Harper and Emery, voice rising dangerously.
“You burned her? With the fucking iron? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
Harper rolled her eyes. “She needed to learn her place—”
“Her place?” Jesse shouted, completely unhinged. “She’s carrying a child! She’s Alexander’s wife! And you think you can just assault her because she didn’t jump fast enough when you barked orders? Fuck off, Harper! Get the hell out of here before I lose it completely!”
Harper opened her mouth to retort, but the pure rage on Jesse’s face made her think better of it. She turned on her heel and stormed out.
Ivy rushed to Emery’s side, gently taking her uninjured hand. “Oh my God, Emery… that looks bad.”
Emery was crying silently now, biting her lip against the throbbing pain. The burn was bright red and already starting to blister.
Jesse moved immediately, his anger shifting into protective urgency. He gently took her elbow, guiding her toward the door.
“Come on,” he said, voice softening but still tight with worry. “We’re going to the hospital. Right now.”
Emery didn’t argue. She let him lead her out of the laundry room, cradling her burned hand against her chest, tears still slipping down her cheeks.
Jesse’s jaw was clenched the entire way to the car, his mind racing with fury at his sister and overwhelming guilt that Emery was once again suffering because of his family.
He had promised Alexander he would look after her.
And right now, that promise felt heavier than ever.
×××××××
The emergency room was quiet at this hour. Jesse had driven Emery straight to the nearest hospital, his hands tight on the steering wheel the entire way. He hadn’t said much... just “It’s going to be okay” once, voice rough with barely contained rage and worry.
Now, in the small treatment room, Emery sat on the examination table, cradling her burned left hand against her chest.
The bright red blistering mark from the iron stood out starkly against her fair skin. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks as the doctor carefully cleaned the wound.
Jesse stood a few feet away, arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes never leaving her face. His eyes were dark with fury at Harper and helpless guilt at seeing Emery in pain again.
The doctor worked gently but efficiently, applying a cooling gel and then a sterile dressing.
“This is a second-degree burn,” he explained calmly.
“It’s going to hurt for a few days, but we’ll give you something for the pain and antibiotics to prevent infection.
Keep it clean and wrapped. No housework with this hand for at least a week. ”
Emery nodded, biting her lower lip hard to keep from crying out as the doctor pressed the dressing into place. A soft, broken sob escaped her anyway... quiet, muffled, but impossible to hide.
Jesse’s jaw clenched so tightly it ached. He took one involuntary step closer, then stopped himself, fists balled at his sides. Seeing her sob silently while trying to be strong was tearing him apart.
The doctor finished wrapping the hand and gave her a prescription. “You’re all set, Mrs. Prescott. Take it easy.”
As soon as the doctor left the room, Jesse moved. He knelt in front of her, gently taking her uninjured hand in both of his.
“Emery…” His voice was low, rough with emotion. “I’m so sorry. Harper had no right. None.”
Emery kept her head down, tears still falling silently onto her lap. She didn’t pull her hand away, but she didn’t look at him either.
Jesse swallowed hard, thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “You don’t have to be strong right now. It’s okay to cry. I’m here.”
She let out another quiet sob, shoulders trembling. The pain in her hand was sharp and throbbing, but the deeper ache, the constant emotional weight of her life hurt even more.
Jesse stayed kneeling there, watching her cry, his own chest tight with the overwhelming need to protect her and the crushing knowledge that he was part of the reason she was suffering.
For the first time in weeks, the walls between them felt paper-thin.
But neither of them knew how to cross them.
×××××××
The drive back from the hospital was silent and heavy. Emery sat in the passenger seat, her bandaged left hand resting carefully in her lap, painkillers dulling the worst of the burn but not the ache in her chest.
Jesse gripped the steering wheel tightly, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the road. Every few seconds his gaze flicked to her injured hand, guilt and fury warring on his face.
When they pulled into the driveway of the Prescott house, Jesse killed the engine and turned to her.
“Stay here for a second,” he said quietly. “I’ll help you inside.”
Emery shook her head, voice small but firm. “I can walk.”
Still, he got out first and opened her door, offering his arm. She ignored it and stepped out on her own, cradling her bandaged hand against her chest.
The moment they entered the foyer, raised voices could already be heard from the living room. Rebecca and Harper were there, deep in conversation.
Jesse’s expression darkened instantly. He strode forward, Emery trailing a few steps behind.
“Harper,” he called out, voice low and dangerous.
Both women turned. Rebecca’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Emery’s bandaged hand. Harper’s face remained defiant.
“What the hell happened?” Rebecca demanded.
Jesse didn’t waste time. “Harper burned her. With the fucking iron. Because Emery didn’t drop everything fast enough to play nanny for Kitty.”
Harper crossed her arms. “She was being difficult. I told her to handle my daughter and she refused. She needed to learn her place!”
“Her place?” Jesse’s voice rose sharply, echoing through the sleek living room. “She’s pregnant, Harper! She’s carrying Alexander’s child and you thought it was okay to press a hot iron into her hand? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Harper scoffed. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re some hero. She’s still the replacement who—”
“Apologize,” Jesse cut in, stepping closer, voice turning thunderous. “Right now. Say you’re sorry for what you did to her.”
Harper lifted her chin. “I’m not apologizing for teaching her boundaries.”
Jesse’s control snapped. “Boundaries? You assaulted her! Get the fuck out of this house!”
Rebecca tried to intervene. “Jesse, calm down...”
“No!” He shouted, turning on his mother too.
“You’ve let her treat Emery like garbage since day one.
You both have. I’m done. Harper, what the fuck are you even doing here every single day?
Go back to your own house! Go be with your husband and your daughter instead of coming here to torment a pregnant woman who never asked to be part of this family! ”
Harper’s face flushed with anger. “You don’t get to tell me what to do in my own family home!”
“This isn’t your home anymore!” Jesse roared. “You’re married. You have your own life. Stop inserting yourself into ours just to make Emery miserable. Leave. Now.”
The argument grew louder, voices overlapping in a frightening crescendo. Rebecca tried to mediate but only made it worse.
Harper yelled back, accusing Jesse of being blinded by “that girl.” Jesse shouted that Harper was cruel and entitled, that she had no right to treat Emery like this.
Emery stood frozen near the entrance, bandaged hand throbbing, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. She hated the yelling. She hated being the cause of it. But she didn’t move.
Finally, Harper grabbed her bag and her daughter, face red with fury. “Fine. I’m leaving. But don’t think this is over.”
She stormed out, slamming the front door behind her.
The sudden silence was deafening.
Jesse stood breathing hard, chest heaving, fists still clenched. He turned toward Emery, the rage draining from his face the moment he saw her tears.
“Emery…” he said softly, voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to get that loud.”
She wiped her face with her uninjured hand, voice barely a whisper. “It’s okay.”
But it wasn’t.
Jesse took a hesitant step toward her, then stopped, unsure if she wanted him closer.
Rebecca watched the exchange with narrowed eyes but said nothing, simply turning and walking upstairs.
The house felt heavier than ever.
×××××××