Chapter 4

The freezing draft of the cellar bit deep into my marrow.

The burns on my neck and arms began to swell and blister, throbbing with excruciating heat.

I curled into the corner, my body burning up with fever.

Once, years ago, I had collapsed with a high fever just like this.

Julian had been in the middle of closing a multi-million-dollar international deal. The moment he heard, he walked out of the boardroom and sped two hours through traffic to reach me.

He had held my shaking hands with tears streaming down his face. "Clara, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I'll never leave your side again."

He had stayed by my bed all night, pressing kisses to my forehead without sleeping a wink.

And now? Separated by a single floor.

Upstairs, he was clinking glasses with his treacherous first love.

Downstairs, he left me to rot in the cold.

Using my last ounce of strength, I crawled to the heavy iron door and banged on the metal with bloody knuckles.

"Open up... please open the door..."

I squeezed my phone through the narrow bottom gap, my voice hoarse and broken.

"Take my phone upstairs... dial the hospital... please, I'm begging you..."

"Mr. Sterling's orders," the guard's muffled voice came from outside. "Your scorecard is entirely in the negative. Until your malice and slanderous habits are broken, you stay inside—even if you drop dead."

My hand fell limp to the cold floor.

My fever raged out of control; consciousness began to slip away.

Right as the darkness began to swallow me completely, the click of high heels sounded outside.

Then, the speakerphone on my cell phone clicked on. A frantic voice of an ICU nurse played through:

"Ms. Vance, Mr. Sterling officially revoked the specialty ICU funding authorization. Without family consent, we couldn't proceed with emergency surgical intervention... We did everything we could. We are so sorry for your loss."

My entire world ground to a halt.

"Too bad, Clara. Looks like your grandmother couldn't wait for you," Evelyn's sweet, venomous whisper filtered through the door.

My phone was kicked back through the gap.

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Grandma was the only family I had left.

My parents died when I was barely a child; she raised me with her bare hands. She always said her only wish in this life was to see me safe and happy.

And now, she had died alone, waiting for a signature that never came.

I didn't even get to hold her hand one last time.

A raw, guttural shriek tore from my throat.

Warm blood surged up my chest and splattered across the cold floor.

Darkness pulled me under.

The next morning, the screech of the iron door woke my burning eyes.

Blinding light poured in.

"As long as you apologize, I will restore your score—"

Julian's composed voice abruptly died in his throat.

I forced my heavy eyelids open. He was standing there, holding a bowl of warm broth.

His face turned ash-white.

"Clara!"

He dropped the bowl and lunged forward to catch me.

With the very last shred of adrenaline left in my broken body, I shoved him away.

My phone slipped from my limp fingers, landing face-up on the floor.

The glowing screen displayed the official notification from the county morgue:

Notice of Unclaimed Remains: Martha Vance.

Julian's outstretched hands froze mid-air.