Chapter 6

Vivian felt like she was dreaming.

In the dream, there was no rain, no blood. Just warm sunlight pouring over her. A boy crouched in front of her, reaching out his hand.

She tried to grab it. The moment her fingers brushed his, his face changed.

It became Patrick.

He stood in the rain, looking down at her. His eyes were cold as ice. "Vivian, what you owe her—you'll never be able to pay it back."

No!

She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She tried to run, but couldn't move. All she could do was watch herself sink deeper and deeper into darkness. Colder and colder.

A sharp beeping sound dragged her back.

Vivian forced her eyes open. Everything was a blurry white. The sharp smell of disinfectant flooded her nose, making her want to cough. But her throat was so dry it felt like it would crack. She didn't even have the strength to cough.

"She's awake! Doctor, she's awake!"

A tearful voice exploded beside her. Vivian struggled to move her eyes and saw a familiar face.

Rachel Summers.

Her best friend. The only person in the world who'd stayed by her side from age eight to twenty-three.

"Vivi..." Rachel gripped her hand, tears streaming down her face. "You scared me to death... Do you know you almost... you almost..."

She couldn't finish. She covered her mouth and turned away, shoulders shaking violently.

Vivian tried to speak but realized there was a tube in her mouth. That's when she noticed—tubes were everywhere. In her nose, her mouth, her arms. She was pinned to the bed, unable to move.

"Don't move, don't move," Rachel quickly held her down. "The wound on your neck almost hit an artery. The doctor said one more millimeter and you'd be dead! And your forehead—they had to put in over a dozen stitches..."

Vivian listened, but her eyes drifted past Rachel to the hospital room door.

No one.

The glass window looked out onto an empty hallway. Just the occasional nurse passing by.

He didn't come.

Of course he wouldn't. He wanted her dead. Why would he come?

"Stop looking," Rachel bit her lip, anger creeping into her voice. "Patrick dumped you at the ER and left. I'm the one who signed the surgery consent form! Vivian, tell me—what happened? How could he do this to you?"

Vivian closed her eyes. Tears slid down her temples and into the pillow.

The door suddenly burst open.

Vivian opened her eyes and saw her mother stumbling in, her father right behind her with a grim expression.

"Vivi!" Mrs. Perkins rushed to the bedside. When she saw her daughter covered in tubes, pale as death, tears spilled over instantly. "My baby... how did you end up like this... That monster, how dare he do this to you..."

Vivian wanted to lift her hand to wipe her mother's tears. She couldn't. She could only blink hard, trying to signal she was okay.

"You're not okay!" Mrs. Perkins clutched her hand, sobbing. "That wound on your neck was so deep, and your forehead—they stitched you up so many times. You were covered in blood when they brought you in... Vivi, what did you do to make him treat you like this?"

What did she do.

Vivian smiled bitterly.

She didn't do anything. She just loved the wrong person. Married the wrong man.

"Mrs. Perkins," Rachel said softly beside her, "the doctor said Vivi needs rest. Please try to stay calm..."

"How can I stay calm?!" Mrs. Perkins shot to her feet. "My daughter's been tortured like this and I can't even ask questions? Where's Patrick? I need to find him!"

"Enough." Mr. Perkins spoke, his voice heavy. He walked up to the bed and looked at Vivian, his expression complicated. "Vivi, I need to ask you something. Jenny's death... was it really you?"

The room went silent.

Vivian looked at her father. At that face lined with age, filled with doubt and unease.

Her father. The man who'd loved her most since she was little. Now he was questioning her too.

She wanted to shake her head, but her neck was immobilized. She couldn't move. All she could do was stare at him, tears streaming silently down her face.

Mr. Perkins saw her crying and his eyes reddened too. He looked away, took a deep breath, his voice breaking. "I want to believe it wasn't you... but Jenny... she was your own sister..."

"Mr. Perkins," Rachel's voice rose. "You believe it wasn't Vivi, right? Then you should help her find out who really framed her!"

"Investigate what?" Mrs. Perkins suddenly spoke up, wiping her tears. "Everyone's saying it was Vivi. What's there to investigate? Vivi, just listen to me—go beg Patrick to forgive you. He's your husband. He won't really hurt you..."

Vivian listened to her mother's words. Her heart felt like someone was squeezing it, wringing the breath from her lungs.

Even her own mother didn't believe her.

"Mrs. Perkins!" Rachel's face flushed red with anger. "What are you saying? How could Vivi hurt Jenny? They're sisters! How could she possibly..."

"I know, I know," Mrs. Perkins cried. "But the evidence is right there. What can I do? I can't just stand by and watch Vivi go to prison! Rachel, you don't understand—Patrick said if Vivi doesn't confess, he'll make the entire Perkins family pay. Our company's already in trouble. If he goes after us..."

"So you're telling Vivi to confess?" Rachel stared at her in disbelief. "Are you even her mother?"

"I..."

"Enough."

A cold voice came from the doorway. Everyone turned at once.

Patrick stood there in a sharp suit, his face expressionless. He looked like he'd just come from some formal event—completely out of place in this sterile hospital room.

Mrs. Perkins instinctively stepped back. Mr. Perkins clenched his fists. Rachel moved in front of Vivian's bed, watching him warily.

Patrick didn't even glance at them. He walked straight to the bed, his gaze landing on Vivian.

Her forehead was wrapped in thick bandages, blood seeping through faintly. Her neck was bandaged too. A ventilator tube extended from her mouth, connected to machines at the bedside.

She was so thin she looked like paper. Like the slightest breeze could carry her away.

Patrick's heart lurched.

But he quickly shoved the feeling down. His voice came out cold. "You're awake?"

Vivian looked at him. Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

"Vivian," he stopped beside the bed, looking down at her. "Do you know how long you've been unconscious?"

She didn't.

"Two days." Patrick said. "Two whole days. You even missed Jenny's funeral. Now, it's time to settle what you owe."

Rachel couldn't hold back. "Patrick, do you have any humanity left? Vivi almost died and you can't even let her recover first?"

Patrick turned to her, his gaze sharp as a blade. "Ms. Summers, this is family business. Please leave."