Chapter 3

The reporters nodded in sudden understanding, looking at me with even more contempt.

"Captain Wilson truly knows how to put the greater good first."

Irina raised a hand to quiet everyone. "I've already arranged for a caregiver for Robert, and I'll make sure his subsequent treatment is taken care of. Please stop disturbing him and let him rest."

Then she glanced at me. "Robert, stop making a scene. You're being incredibly childish."

She turned and walked out, with the reporters following close behind.

Silence returned to the hospital room. I lay in bed, tears streaming silently down my face.

In that instant, it felt as though the entire world had abandoned me. The numbness in my legs was the only reminder that my career was over.

That night, as the anesthetic gradually wore off, I gritted my teeth but still couldn't stop myself from groaning in pain.

Cold sweat soaked through my hospital gown as I clutched the bedsheets with all my strength.

Just then, the door creaked open. Irina stood in the doorway.

I froze for a moment, then felt a flicker of hope rise inside me.

Maybe she'd been worried about me. Maybe she'd realized she'd made a mistake and had come to comfort me.

"Irina, it really hurts. So much." I couldn't help giving in first, like a fledgling turning to an adult bird for comfort.

Irina didn't turn on the lights or come over to my bed.

In the darkness, her voice sounded even colder than it had during the day. "Stop your damn whining."

I froze.

"You're going to wake Blake up with all that noise. I finally managed to get him to sleep."

Every drop of blood in my body seemed to freeze. "You're taking care of him?"

"Yeah, why?" Irina's tone made it sound perfectly obvious. "You have to see a rescue through to the end. He's an orphan, he's been traumatized, and he has no family to care for him. If I don't look after him, who will?"

With that, she turned and walked away.

I shouted after her, "Isabel! I'm your own brother!"

She paused, but she didn't turn around. "I know. That's exactly why you should know better, shouldn't you?"

I lay in the darkness as waves of pain washed over me.

But the pain in my chest was far worse than the agony in the lower half of my body. It hurt so much I could barely breathe.

Trembling, I reached for the phone on my bed.

My name was trending on social media, accompanied by a string of ugly insults.

[Robert Wilson is so damn selfish. He thinks being the rescue captain's brother entitles him to special treatment.]

[He didn't get rescued first, so now he's throwing a tantrum. What a shameless loser.]

[He still thinks he can be a champion? More like the champion of spoiled rich-kid syndrome!]

As I stared at the wave of malice pouring toward me, all I felt was boundless sorrow.

Not a single person believed me. People would always side with whoever seemed weaker.

I opened the page to post an update and left a single line: [I'm sorry, but I genuinely don't understand what I did wrong.]

...

The next morning, before I was even fully awake, Irina's furious voice startled me.

"Robert, what the hell did you mean by that post?"

My eyes were so swollen I could barely open them. I'd cried for too long the night before, and everything in front of me was still blurry.

"What do you mean?"

Irina threw her phone onto my bed. Blake stood behind her, his eyes red. He tugged at her sleeve and said softly, "Irina, please don't blame Robert. This is all my fault."

Then he knelt in front of my bed. "I'm sorry, Robert. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have been rescued before you, and I shouldn't have competed against you. I'm the one who did everything wrong. Please don't be angry with Irina."

Irina immediately bent down and helped him up. "Don't be ridiculous. What does any of this have to do with you?"

He turned to look at me. "See for yourself."