Chapter 4

I looked at Lila Reed, still unconscious in her hospital bed. Maybe, just maybe, this time, she was the miracle sent to save me.

For three long days, I stayed by her side. During that time, Anthony was busy organizing his mother's funeral. He only came by occasionally to check on things.

He wasn't worried about me escaping. He'd rented out the entire hospital floor and stationed guards everywhere to watch my every move.

The security was airtight—nothing could get in or out, not even a bird.

When Lila finally woke up, Anthony happened to walk into the room.

I barely had time to feel relieved before she suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream.

Her eyes were wide with terror as she pointed at me, her hand trembling.

"You… You're the murderer!"

"Anthony, it's her! She killed Mom! It was her!"

She clung to Anthony's arm, sobbing uncontrollably. "Why is she here? She killed Mom! Why is she still here?"

I stood frozen, unable to react. A chill ran down my spine, leaving me paralyzed.

Anthony held his panicked sister tightly, gently stroking her back to calm her.

"It's okay, Lila. You're safe now. Don't get upset."

"Call the police, Anthony! Arrest her! She killed Mom—you have to call the police!"

"Lila, look at me," I pleaded desperately. "That night, it wasn't me. Please, look carefully—it wasn't me!"

I inched closer, hoping for her to see reason, to remember something that could clear my name.

But the closer I got, the more hysterical she became.

The room descended into chaos. Nurses rushed in, trying to restrain her.

Then, out of nowhere, a sharp slap echoed through the room.

Pain erupted in my left cheek. I stood there, stunned, the side of my face burning.

Anthony's voice cut through the air, cold and furious:

"Get out, you murderer."

His finger pointed toward the door, his eyes blazing with hatred.

I felt as though I'd fallen into an abyss of ice. My last shred of hope was gone.

At his mother's funeral, Anthony forced me to my knees in front of the grave.

The guards pressed down on my head, making me bow again and again against the cold, unforgiving tombstone.

Every time my forehead hit the hard stone, stars burst in my vision. But until Anthony gave the order, the bowing wouldn't stop.

I didn't know how long it went on. My head was spinning, my entire body weak from the blood rushing to my head.

Just when I thought I couldn't take another second, someone shoved the guards aside and pulled me into their arms.

"Anthony Reed, have you lost your mind? What are you doing to Quinn? If you want revenge, go find the real killer instead of torturing her like this!"

I forced my swollen eyes open just enough to see the figure standing over me.

It was Lily Hart—my best friend, my sister in everything but blood.

From high school to now, Lily had always treated me like family, protecting me no matter what.

"Lily," I whimpered, tears finally streaming down my face. "You believe me, don't you? I didn't kill her. I didn't kill his mom."

Lily's eyes filled with tears as she gently wiped the blood off my face.

"I know, Quinn. I believe you. You'd never do something like that."

The cemetery was almost empty now, only a few people lingering.

Anthony waved his hand, and the guards immediately separated me from Lily.

Barely able to support myself, I leaned on the ground to keep from collapsing.

Anthony let out a cold laugh.

"How touching. Sisterhood at its finest." He leaned down, his voice low and venomous.

"Quinn Taylor, if you think this is the end, you're sorely mistaken. My revenge is far from over."

I was dragged back to the mansion and locked in the same cage as before—just like in my previous life.

The security footage of that night played on a loop in front of me, over and over.

I began to have visceral reactions. My body would shake uncontrollably, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw his mother's bloody face, accusing me, asking why I killed her.

"I didn't," I whispered into the darkness. "I didn't kill you. I swear I didn't."

I didn't know how much time had passed. My nerves were frayed beyond recognition. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. The nightmares never stopped.

My body withered. My reflection in the mirror was barely recognizable—gaunt, hollow-eyed, and lifeless.

One day, I collapsed in the cage. When the maids found me, I was unconscious.

Anthony had me taken out of the cage and put on an IV drip. But even as my body recovered slightly, my mind remained a fractured mess.

That afternoon, I wandered near the window, staring listlessly outside.

Then I saw them.

A figure in the distance, slipping through the garden.

My heart stopped.

My pupils dilated, and my chest tightened as my breath caught in my throat.

There they were—the real murderer. The one who had killed Anthony's mother.