The girl clutched her bleeding eye, writhing on the floor.
“Serenya, I’ll tell Caelan everything you did. I want him to kill you!”
I wiped the sticky blood from my cheek, arched an eyebrow, and said evenly,
“Alright. I’ll wait.”
That evening, I was soaking in my medicinal bath when Caelan burst in. His eyes froze on my frown.
The accident thirteen years ago had left me with a torment I couldn’t shake—if I missed a day of soaking, my organs felt as though they were being torn apart.
I sensed his anger had dulled. With a long sigh, he tossed a small cloth bag at my feet.
“Serenya, you went too far.”
The embroidered rabbits unraveled, and a blood-stained eyeball rolled onto the tiles.
“She was just a child. One cut to her face, one to her stomach, and now this… You’ve destroyed her life.”
I clenched my fists. “What about mine?!”
“Caelan, why did she have that video?! The one from thirteen years ago—me being violated, turned into her weapon of mockery. Tell me, wasn’t it right for me to gouge out her eye?”
My voice broke into a scream. “I hate that I didn’t go further! I should have done what they did to me—dragged a pack of beasts in front of you and let them tear her apart!”
My composure shattered. Wrapped in a towel, I staggered out, trembling as I reached for my phone.
Strong hands circled my waist, pulling me back into an embrace.
“Serenya… it’s my fault.”
A heavy sigh filled the darkened room, heavy as the silence thirteen years ago—when I dragged a half-dead Caelan by his torn clothes, when we huddled together with nothing but the sound of each other’s heartbeat.
Pain seared through me as I wriggled free.
“Caelan…”
“I won’t leave,” he cut in, his tone firm.
I opened my mouth to speak again, but the shrill ring of my phone sliced through the moment.
On the other end, her voice was sweet and eager.
“Caelan, did you do it? You promised—you’d return all my suffering to her. Where are her eyes? Did you bring them to me?”
“Eira…”
“I’m asking you a question. Did you bring them?!”
Her tone sharpened.
“The doctor says I’ll never have children again. I want her womb, her face—cut her into a hundred pieces! Or better—just kill her, Caelan. Kill her, and then we can be happy.”
Caelan hurried toward the door. In the darkness I couldn’t see his face. But just before it closed, I heard his voice, tender enough to melt.
“Eira… be good.”
The same tone he once used on me.
Thirteen years ago, after the doctor told me my unborn child had been beaten out of me, I stood on the hospital roof, ready to jump. He stood at a distance, panicked, coaxing me down with the same words.
“Serenya, be good. Even without a child, I’ll still love you. This love… I’ll only give to you.”
So his promise lasted only thirteen years.
Agony raked through my body until I collapsed in the corner, drenched in cold sweat.
Half-dreaming, I heard a sound outside the door.
The tearing of fabric.
