After half an hour of emergency treatment, Leslie slowly came to.
The first thing she saw was Travis. She couldn't help it—disappointment came first, acceptance last.
'Of course, Denver wouldn't care enough to stay,' she thought in resignation.
"Thanks, Travis," Leslie said quietly.
"Such a hassle," Travis hissed, brushing off his pants as he stood and went to call the doctor.
The doctor gave her a quick check and said, "She's fine now. Just watch her diet and keep anti-allergy meds at home."
But Travis's mind was elsewhere—probably on Kiana. He pulled Leslie up without much thought and started striding toward the parking lot.
"Something's going on at home. Can you walk faster?" he asked in an annoyed tone.
Still shaky from waking up, Leslie stumbled. Her legs gave out, and she fell to the ground, scraping her knees.
Travis froze, his patience snapping like a rubber band stretched too thin. "Leslie, why do you always have to be so much trouble?"
Leslie's chest tightened, her nose stung, but she forced the tears back.
'Is this really the same boy I used to know?' she wondered. 'The same kid who would get worried over a tiny scratch on my heel and insist on carrying me on his back?'
She pressed her palms to her knees and pushed herself up. Her knees throbbed, but the pain wasn't what hurt most. She knew she'd lost to Kiana—but she still didn't understand why.
"Travis," she said, her voice trembling, "can you just tell me why? Why does everyone side with Kiana? Why do you hate me so much?"
Hands stuffed in his pockets, Travis shot her a cold glance.
"Kiana grew up with us at the same orphanage.
We got separated because of an accident, and my brother spent sixteen years looking for her.
If it wasn't for you, Kiana would've married my brother! She could've been my sister-in-law soon!
We could've had a happy life—perfect, really.
But you? You ruined all of it!"
His words hit like a hammer, each one heavier than the last. He punched a nearby tree, his frustration boiling over, not even noticing how hard Leslie flinched.
"So that's how it is." Her voice cracked. "I get it now."
She forced herself to stand straighter. "You can go. I just… want to walk by myself for a while."
He didn't hesitate. Without another word, he climbed into Denver's car, hit the gas, and left Leslie standing there.
The streets that night were quiet and empty.
Leslie wandered with no destination, Travis's words circling her mind like a broken record.
'Orphanage… like family… separated…'
Flashes of unfamiliar memories hit her out of nowhere. Images she didn't recognize flickered in and out.
Her head pounded. She grabbed onto a lamppost, her breaths coming faster and faster.
'Happily ever after. Never leaving each other.'
In her head, she saw images of three children, pinky-promising under a tree.
'Forever,' they said. 'No matter what.'
Leslie blinked hard, trying to hold onto the memory, but the blurry images of the children vanished.
Even the light from the streetlamps seemed to fade away.
Everything went dark as Leslie collapsed by the roadside.
Then she dreamed—strange yet surreal.
She was six years old, following a cute boy up a hill.
He was laughing, his voice clear and full of excitement. "Kiana, look! I found an emerald!"
'Kiana? Is he talking to me?' Leslie thought.
The boy sat down on the ground, legs crossed, and started polishing the green stone he held.
He worked for what felt like forever until the emerald turned into a smooth pendant, shaped like a lock. He threaded a red string through it and slipped it over her neck—or was it Kiana's?
The next morning, Kiana came to visit Leslie in the hospital.
As soon as she saw Leslie lying on the bed, unconscious, Kiana broke down in tears.
Denver was by her side, his voice gentle. "Shhh. She's fine now. Just tired and sleeping."
He stroked her hair softly, but as his fingers brushed past a red string around Kiana's neck, something slipped out—an emerald pendant, smooth and polished.
