After My Sister Died, I Went Insane for Revenge

I was still locked away in the mental hospital, watching my sister’s wedding livestream with unwavering attention. Then—chaos. A naked woman, her face smeared with blood, burst into the scene and dropped to her knees before my sister, bowing in desperation. “Caitlin, you ruined my face… tore my clothes to shreds. I’m no threat to you anymore. Please, don’t send me to the mental hospital. I’ll stay away from Preston…” My sister’s groom, Preston Flynn, erupted with fury. In front of the guests, he barked an order. “Slap her—dozens of times!” His men obeyed without hesitation. “She’s lived under someone else’s roof since childhood,” he shouted. “She’s always walked on eggshells, always kind and timid. And yet you, Caitlin—you treat her like this? Have I spoiled you too much?” He cast my sister a final, merciless glance. “The Flynn family does not harbor a vicious woman like you!” The wedding ended in disgrace. My sister was dragged away, tossed like refuse into a waiting car, and sent to a remote temple to repent. When I finally saw her again, she was no longer the radiant girl who used to visit me. Her face was torn with scars, her chest sunken, fingers bent at unnatural angles. She had been broken. My eyes blazed as I stared down the head of the hospital. I forced the discharge paperwork into his hand. “Sign it. Now.” Because whoever touched my sister—I was going to kill them.