Chapter 2

I stared at the ceiling in despair, my eyes vacant.

Heather seemed to notice something was off about me. She hurried over, took my hand in hers, and said, "Don't be scared, Christopher. With Claire and me here, no one can hurt you."

Claire came closer to me as well, speaking in a gentle voice. "Don't worry, Christopher. Even if you can never get out of bed again, we'll take care of you for the rest of your life."

My injuries started aching again when I heard that. I remembered how hard it was when I first began racing.

Our parents died in a car accident when I was seven, leaving behind the ten-year-old Claire and me.

For my survival, Claire had to work three jobs a day. She even denied herself proper meals and gave me the only bit of meat she had.

When I got older, I happened to see a racing competition one day, and winning came with a big cash prize.

I signed up right away, hoping to give Claire and me a better life. I trained day and night. There were times the car flipped over, and countless times I brushed shoulders with death.

Later, while I was out shopping, I saved Heather when she collapsed from low blood sugar by the side of the road. To thank me, she became my girlfriend.

At the time, I was always busy training, so she would often visit me with lots of good food. My team members often jokingly called her Mrs. Bowman.

When I had finally gotten the first prize money of my racing career, I excitedly shared the news with them. They both hugged me, telling me that my health and safety mattered more to them than anything else.

Before all of this had happened, I truly believed I was the happiest person in the world.

It wasn't until right before this race when I was knocked out and taken away that I finally understood what it felt like to be betrayed by the people closest to me.

The scars on my body would fade in time, but the wounds in my heart would never heal.

Heather came over with a bowl of beef stew. "Christopher, have some stew. It'll help you with your recovery."

The moment I saw the meat in it, my stomach turned. I never liked the taste of beef. The one who liked beef was Samuel.

Claire realized it at that moment and snatched the bowl away. "Heather, did you forget that Christopher doesn't eat beef? Give that to me."

Heather tried to make amends by hugging me. However, the moment I came into contact with a woman, the PTSD I had developed from what those women did to me made my body start to tremble uncontrollably as I recalled those horrible memories.

They had stepped on the wound where I had lost my kidney with their high heels and used their long nails to scratch patterns into my skin just to satisfy their twisted desires.

I started coughing violently as if I were suffocating until a mouthful of blood came out.

Startled, Claire wanted to summon a doctor, but Heather stopped her. "His throat's just a little irritated. We'll just get him some honey and lemon water, and he'll be fine."

With that, they left. I closed my eyes in heartbreak. That wasn't just irritation at all. My throat had been scalded with hot water by those women, so it was covered in blisters.

After the nurse finished changing my IV, she quietly said to her colleague, "What kind of family are they? They're only giving him saline. They refused to put him on anti-inflammatory medication. The patient's never going to recover like this."

The other nurse whispered, "I heard the patient got in someone's way, so they'd rather keep him like this forever, even if he's barely hanging on."

My head spun when I heard that. I finally understood why I hadn't been getting any better.

Feeling crushed, I borrowed a phone from the nurse and called my racing coach.

After the call connected, hearing that familiar voice made tears stream down my face. "Mr. Hudson, I'm a cripple now. I'll never be able to race again."

My coach, Ross Hudson, comforted me. "It's okay. What is valuable will always be recognized. You can still put what you have left to good use, like me."

His words reignited my will to live. I said firmly, "Wait for me, Mr. Hudson. Once I recover, I'll go see you."