Chapter 3

The old warehouse roof was full of holes, and freezing rain poured through the gaps.

I shivered at the iron door. In a flash of lightning, I spotted a familiar silver bracelet wedged beside the padlock outside.

Natalie had been wearing it during warm-ups that morning.

She had followed me here and locked me in.

The warehouse was damp and freezing. The drugs from last night had already left my body dangerously weak.

Soaked by the rain, I quickly spiked a fever. My legs buckled, and I slid down the iron door to the ground.

My head was splitting. My vision started to blur.

Survival instinct made me dig out my phone. One faint bar.

Instinctively, I called Derek.

The phone rang for a long time before he picked up.

His voice dripped with irritation.

"What? What do you want now, Amber?"

My voice was so weak it was barely audible.

"Derek..."

"I'm locked in the old warehouse on the west side. Someone locked me in. I have a fever... can you come get me..."

Derek scoffed.

"I'm with the sponsors. I can't leave. Figure it out yourself. Call security."

On the other end, I heard Natalie's sugary voice, clear as day.

"Derek, who's calling? Forget about it. Have a drink with me."

Whatever heat the fever had left in me vanished.

A bitter laugh escaped me.

"I thought you were with the sponsors..."

Derek hung up.

In the empty warehouse, the only sound was rain hammering against the tin roof.

I stared at the dead phone screen. Tears mixed with rain ran into my mouth, so bitter they made me gag.

When I needed him most, he hadn't just lied. He had abandoned me without a second thought, leaving me in the storm.

I bit through my lip, using the pain to force myself awake.

I would not die here.

In the dark, I found a rusty iron rod among the junk. I forced myself to my feet and smashed it into the glass of the ventilation window high on the wall.

The glass shattered, slicing the back of my hand.

Blood streamed down.

I climbed onto a stack of discarded crates and pulled myself through the vent, my hands slick with blood.

As I collapsed beside the muddy road, I remembered Derek taking that pipe for me. The memory almost made me laugh.

Then everything went black.

When I woke up, I was lying on a bench in the hospital emergency corridor.

A nurse told me a passerby had called 911.

An IV drip was attached to my hand. Every part of me ached.

On my way to the restroom, I passed a private room down the hall. The door stood half open.

I saw Derek carefully holding a glass of water, helping Natalie drink as she reclined against the headboard.

Natalie's ankle wore a single layer of bandage. A minor sprain, yet she had a private room.

Harris stood nearby, his brow furrowed.

"Derek, Amber has the copyright locked down. The tour is already advertised. What are we supposed to do?"

Derek set down the glass, not a shred of concern in his voice.

"Don't worry about her. I had the tour credits changed to Natalie, and I filed a performance release with Amber's signature. She can't stop us now."

The door flew open. Derek's mother, Diane Mercer, stood there holding a thermos of soup, her face white with fury.

She had come to visit and overheard everything.

She stormed in and slapped Derek across the face.

Her voice broke with anguish.

"You monster! Amber gave you five years of her life. How could you do this to her?"

Derek's face snapped sideways. He turned back to her, jaw locked.

"Mom, you don't understand. Natalie does what she's told, and she brought in seven hundred fifty thousand dollars in sponsorships. Amber only cares about artistic purity. She has no idea how this business works. I should have replaced her years ago."

Standing outside the door, listening to his self-righteous declaration, the last ember in my heart turned to ash.

To him, I was nothing but a stepping stone with no commercial value, disposable at any time.

Expressionless, I pulled the IV needle from the back of my hand. Blood welled up. I didn't even flinch.

The next morning, I discharged myself from the hospital.

The next morning, outside the hospital, I caught up with Diane before she left to challenge the copyright transfer.

"Mrs. Mercer, let it go."

My voice was calm.

"I'll handle this myself."

Derek ignored my calls for days.

At Diane's insistence, I went to the members-only club where Natalie was throwing a victory party. I intended to end things once and for all.