The sharp stench of antiseptic clung to the hospital room.I lay on the cold, unyielding bed, my body torn apart by pain—but the deeper agony was the hollow wound in my chest.My right foot was wrapped in thick bandages, the blood seeping through in blotches shaped like bruised blossoms.A plaster brace locked my left shoulder and back in place, leaving me motionless.The monitor beeped steadily, as if mocking me by reminding me I was still alive.The door clicked open.Elara walked in, her heels striking the floor like deliberate taunts. Two women, dressed in gaudy, overdone outfits, trailed after her.Lucian followed last, his expression grim, his eyes darting anywhere but toward me.She stopped at my bedside, looking down at my bandaged foot with a cruel, almost curious smile."Well, well, Ms. Lynelle. What did the doctors say about this foot of yours? Don't tell me you're going to be a cripple for the rest of your life."The women at her side broke into laughter."What a
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