"Whether I can accept things or not has nothing to do with you." Rosetta did not want to waste a second to listen to her nonsense, so she turned to leave.
But before she could take a step, Sierra reached forward, grabbing her hand. "Still not giving up, are you?"
Before Rosetta could process her words, Sierra suddenly twisted away, releasing Rosetta's hand and deliberately crashing her own forehead against the corner of the table.
Her cry of pain startled Rosetta, leaving her momentarily frozen.
Hurried footsteps sounded behind them. It was Elliot and Edric approaching in panic.
Elliot shoved Rosetta aside and rushed to Sierra's side. Rosetta stumbled back, her right hand slamming painfully against the decorative shelf, the sharp pain making it hard to stand upright.
"Rosetta, I know you don't like me, but I was only staying here for a night. If it bothers you that much, I could have just left. Why did you have to push me?"
There was blood on Sierra's forehead. Her voice was soft, yet her words twisted the truth, casting Rosetta as the villain.
Suppressing the ache in her wrist, Rosetta tried to speak, but Edric seized her hand angrily. "Since when have you changed to be this narrow-minded?"
Elliot was holding Sierra in his arms as he looked at Rosetta with a harsh, icy glare. "I'm deeply disappointed in you, Rosie."
The pain in her wrist left Rosetta's face ghostly pale. She met their condemning stares before a bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Is it really me who has changed? Or is it the two of you?"
Elliot rose with Sierra still cradled in his arms. "You don't even feel a bit guilty after injuring Sierra like this. It seems we've spoiled you far too much until now."
Edric agreed. "Yeah, Elliot is right. You went too far this time, Rosie. Reflect on your behavior for the next few days.
After saying those words, Elliot and Edric turned and left with Sierra.
Rosetta just stood there alone, numb and hollow with heartbreak, watching the three of them walk away.
But right now, she did not have time to dwell on the ache in her heart. The sharp, stabbing pain in her right wrist filled her with dread and even her voice trembled.
"Dante, tell the driver to get me to the hospital quickly."
As a violinist, her right hand was everything to her. The relentless pain clouded her mind with fear. If something happened to her hand... the loss would be more than she could bear.
She reached the hospital in a haze, bracing herself as the doctor examined her wrist. Moments later, he delivered the diagnosis: a comminuted fracture.
Rosetta froze, staring at him in disbelief. Her voice shook as she asked, "Doctor, sorry, what... did you say?"
The doctor noticed her shock, so he tried to reassure her. "You came here quickly, so it isn't too serious. With proper treatment, you should recover in time."
"So… I can't play the violin for now?"
"You're a violinist?"
"Yes, and I have an important show tomorrow night."
"Then, I'm afraid you can't perform tomorrow. You'll need to rest your hand for at least three months."
"But what about my performance tomorrow night?"
"If you force yourself to play tomorrow, you risk permanent damage. Even three months is a conservative estimate. Your full recovery depends on how well your hand heals."
The doctor walked away and Rosetta sat in the emergency room, stunned and numb.
The butler stood quietly beside her with reddening eyes, holding back his tears as he shared in her pain.
#
