Marcella made a show of leaving, and James caught her back, pulling her hard against him.
"It's a worthless trinket. Lose it, buy another."
With that, James reached for my hand, meaning to take me out with him.
I glanced at his neck and saw the red cord truly wasn't there anymore. I jerked my hand away from his and turned, walking straight back into the private room.
James moved to stop me, but just then Marcella let out a soft cry. "Ah... I think my calf got burned. Will it scar? James, I'm scared..."
His attention snapped to her. Without a moment's hesitation, he scooped Marcella up and left.
After they were gone, I searched the smoke-choked room for a long time before I finally found the peace pendant, abandoned in the corner of the sofa.
By then the flames had spread, but I didn't care about the risk of being burned. I reached out, snatched it up, and clutched it against my chest.
My mother had knelt up ninety-nine steps to pray for this before she died.
Just as I reached the door, the frame collapsed in flames. I threw myself clear of it, dodging desperately, and finally made it out.
The moment I escaped, my vision went black and I passed out cold.
When my mind surfaced again, before I could even open my eyes, I heard James's voice cut through the room, leaving no room for argument.
"Graft her skin onto Marcie. Marcie's only twenty. She has her whole youth ahead of her. She can't be left with scars."
"As for Constance Vance, she's already past her prime. There's no need to worry about her."
The doctor seemed to hesitate. "But Miss Vance's burns cover a large area, while Miss Pruitt's burn is only the size of a fingernail. There's really no need..."
Before the doctor could finish, James cut him off, impatient. "If I remember correctly, I own this hospital. I'm the one who pays your salary."
The doctor paused a few seconds, then gave in. "Yes, Mr. Rowe."
"But Miss Vance doesn't have much undamaged skin left. I'm afraid we can only graft from the scalp..."
"Then take it from there. Anything goes wrong, it's on me." James didn't hesitate at all.
I lay limp on the bed, and when I felt a faint sting in my arm, my consciousness sank back into darkness.
When I woke again, three days had passed.
I looked at myself in the mirror, wrapped head to toe in bandages, and my eyes brimmed.
I lifted my hand and touched the top of my head.
The thick hair was gone. Only cotton and bandages remained, with a faint seep of blood through them.
Ding!
I picked up my phone and saw a message from Mrs. Rowe.
【The divorce paperwork is finalized. I'll give you the divorce certificate and your mother's belongings tomorrow. Do you need me to buy your plane ticket?】
I worked my stiff fingers.
【No.】
I had just stepped out of the bathroom when I saw Marcella sitting at the head of my bed, holding the peace pendant I'd dragged out of the fire.
My pupils shrank. "Give it back!" My voice came out harsh.
I lunged to take it back.
But Marcella dodged me with ease.
Click.
A flame leapt from a lighter, and Marcella held the pendant above it.
She gloated. "Constance Vance, you think you're so capable? I want you on your knees, repenting to me!"
Repent for what?
I opened my mouth, asked nothing, my eyes locked on the pendant in her hand.
Seeing I didn't move, Marcella offered a "kind" reminder. "Back when you saved James, why didn't you save Olive? Because you already knew he was the heir to the Rowe family, so you wanted to slip in while she was gone."
"Constance Vance, who said you had no schemes? Look how cushy these seven years have been for you. You almost gave birth to a bastard, too."
"Tsk, tsk. You breed like a sow. I've already killed three of your bastards, and I never imagined you'd manage to conceive a fourth. Cheap to the bone."
She paused, her expression delighted, her gaze dropping to my flat stomach. "Heh. But a bastard's still a bastard. I won't let him be born, and he won't live!"
Dread rose in my chest. I asked, my voice cracking, "Who are you, really? Why would you go after my children? They were innocent!"
No matter what, the children were innocent.
And yet Marcella wore the look of a petty soul drunk on victory.
Rage surged through me. I wanted nothing more than to rush at her and tear her apart.
Marcella smiled gently and said it plainly. "Olive was my sister. I came to take my revenge."
"Whose fault is it that you didn't save my sister back then? All these years you've climbed up on her flesh and blood, and you've had quite the comfortable life, haven't you~"
