Even if the price was my life.
Perhaps the pain in my eyes was too obvious to miss.
A rare flicker of something like tenderness crossed Blake's face.
He leaned down and pulled me into his arms, his voice gentle.
"Elaine, just hold on a little longer. I promise, once Agatha recovers, I'll look into what really happened back then."
I looked up at him and smiled. A hollow, broken smile.
He didn't know yet. I couldn't wait that long.
The doctors had told me my bone marrow had nearly stopped producing blood. Once they drained what was left, I would die.
The moment I opened my mouth, a spray of blood foam came pouring out.
Panic flooded Blake's eyes. He was about to call for a doctor when his assistant burst through the door.
"Mr. Gilbert, Miss Pruitt is awake, but she's hysterical. She's threatening to slit her wrists again!"
One sentence. That was all it took for him to drop me back onto the floor without a second thought.
"Get every doctor to Agatha's room immediately. Have them on standby!"
He glanced down at me, already half-unconscious on the cold tiles.
"Send another nurse in here. Keep drawing Elaine's blood."
Nathan Voss's face twisted with discomfort.
"Sir, Mrs. Gilbert has already lost too much blood. If we keep going, something could happen."
Blake let out a barely perceptible scoff.
"She's always been tough as nails. Nothing's going to happen."
"Besides, this is what she and her mother owe Agatha."
"As long as Agatha pulls through, I'll send her abroad for treatment after she's discharged. As for Elaine, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her."
He didn't look at me again. His footsteps hurried down the hallway and faded.
The needle pierced my skin once more. I didn't struggle this time. I just closed my eyes, too exhausted to fight.
A bitter smile ghosted across my lips.
Blake, you won't get the chance to make it up to me.
Because once someone is dead, they don't need anything anymore.
The nurse tried everything, but my body had nothing left to give. Not a single drop.
She stared at the empty syringe, her face pale with alarm.
From outside the door came Blake's furious, impatient roar.
"What are you standing around for? Get that blood to Agatha's room, now!"
The nurse fumbled to pull the blanket over me, then stumbled out of the room.
"Mr. Gilbert, Miss Harding has lost too much blood. There's nothing left to draw!"
Blake frowned and let out a cold grunt.
"Nothing left? Then let her rest for a couple of days and try again."
The blanket covered my face. My consciousness was slipping, dissolving at the edges.
Even so, when I heard his words, I couldn't help but laugh. A cold, quiet laugh.
A couple of days?
He didn't know I wouldn't survive the next two hours.
My body had lost the ability to produce blood. At this rate of loss, I would slip into a coma and die within minutes.
When my consciousness finally scattered into nothing, I felt no sadness.
Only relief. The relief of someone who had finally been set free.
When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in midair.
Not far away was Agatha's room. The hallway outside it was packed with medical staff standing at attention, ready to respond at a moment's notice.
I watched Blake rush through the door, his face tight with worry, and my eyes burned.
Just a few steps away from where he stood, I had died in silence.
He hadn't cared. His heart, his eyes, his every thought belonged to his adoptive sister.
Blake knelt beside the hospital bed, cradling Agatha's face in both hands, his gaze full of anguish.
"Agatha, you're finally awake. You scared me half to death."
"Please, I'm begging you, don't ever do anything like that again."
His voice held a tenderness I had never once been given.
Agatha burst into tears, delicate as rain on pear blossoms.
"I'm fine. I just missed Mom and Dad so much."
The same act as always. The same performance.
For five years, every time Blake showed me even a shred of mercy, she would pull something like this and shove me right back into the abyss.
