Chapter 4

When the first winter cold front hit the city, Victoria came down with a severe fever.

By midnight, she was delirious. I stayed by her bedside, constantly changing the cold towel on her forehead.

Through my implant, her heavy, ragged breathing sounded incredibly loud.

Suddenly, she reached out and grabbed my hand. Tears rolled down her flushed cheeks.

"Julian... don't leave... please, don't leave me..."

Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed like a child terrified of the dark.

My stupid, weak heart softened.

I let her hold my hand. I didn't move an inch the entire night.

I actually thought, just for a second, that maybe deep down, she still loved me.

But when dawn broke, Victoria's fever subsided. She slowly opened her eyes.

The moment she realized she was holding my hand, she recoiled as if she had touched a hot stove.

She grabbed a wet wipe from the nightstand and scrubbed her palm with disgust.

Then she pointed coldly to the door, gesturing for me to get out.

I stood there for a second, numb, before turning to leave.

As the door clicked shut behind me, the tiny bit of warmth I had felt during the night froze over completely.

I should have known. Her warmth was never meant for me.

Even if she called my name in her delirium, she would take it back the second she woke up.

At lunchtime, Adrien was carrying a pot of freshly boiled water. As he walked past me, his hand "slipped."

The entire pot of scalding water poured directly onto my right hand.

The hand that had already been ruined three years ago.

Instantly, my skin turned angry red and began to blister. I dropped to my knees, clutching my hand, gasping in agony.

Hearing the commotion, Victoria rushed into the kitchen. She bypassed me entirely, throwing herself in front of Adrien. Her voice was frantic with worry.

"Did it burn you? Are you okay? Let me see your hands!"

Adrien shook his head, looking pathetic.

Only then did Victoria glare at me, her face twisted in annoyance.

"Can't you just stay out of the way for once? Do you have to be a useless burden every single day?"

I cradled my blistered, throbbing hand, my whole body shaking. I couldn't even scream.

I watched her gently blow on Adrien's perfectly fine hands.

The very last piece of my heart shattered into dust.

That afternoon, Clara took me to the emergency room to treat the burns.

The doctor looked at my blistered hand, then pulled up my medical records from three years ago. He sighed heavily.

"You know, looking at your old charts... if your hand had been operated on immediately after the accident, it wouldn't have been permanently ruined. You were brought in way too late. You missed the critical window."

I froze. "How long was the delay?"

"According to the logs, there was a delay of over four hours between the injury and the surgery."

My grip on the medical chart tightened.

What actually happened that night?

I suddenly realized that the "accident" three years ago might not have been an accident at all.