The sharp sting of antiseptic filled the air, biting at Hazel's nose as she sat rigid on the plastic chair, her hands clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The harsh light above flickered once, humming softly, casting everything in a cold, clinical glow.
Saraphina lay unconscious behind the glass partition, her pale face barely visible beneath the oxygen mask, her gown replaced by a hospital sheet. Machines beeped steadily, cruel reminders of the fragile line between life and death.
Hazel's chest rose and fell too quickly. She couldn't process it—the blood, the collapse, the way Saraphina had gone still in her arms. Now she sat frozen, as though one wrong move might shatter what little hope remained.
The doctor, a man in his forties with a grave expression, stepped out of the emergency ward holding a clipboard. His eyes moved from Hazel to Lily, then back again, the weight of his words already etched in his face.
"Young ladies," he said carefully, his tone low, professional. "The patient… she miscarried."
The word cut like glass. Hazel gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She shook her head violently, as though refusing to let it sink in. "No. No, that can't—she didn't even know—she—"
The doctor lowered his eyes briefly, then continued, his voice steadier this time. "There are complications. The fetus did not survive. We need to perform an immediate procedure to remove what's left. If we delay, her life will be in danger."
Hazel's breath hitched. The ground seemed to tilt beneath her, her mind blank. She gripped the chair until her nails dug into the plastic.
The doctor held out a form, the pages thin and rustling faintly. "One of you needs to sign this consent document."
Hazel's fingers twitched but didn't move. She couldn't. Her eyes blurred with tears, her heart hammering. It was as if the paper in the doctor's hand was a death sentence she couldn't bear to touch.
Silence stretched painfully long.
Then Lily, her eyes red, stepped forward. Her hands shook as she reached for the clipboard, her lips pressed tightly together. She swallowed hard, her voice breaking as she whispered, "I'll sign."
Her pen scratched across the paper, each letter jagged, trembling. Her vision blurred, but she forced herself to finish.
Hazel finally looked up, her voice trembling. "Lily… how can you—how can you be so calm?"
Lily's tears finally spilled, tracing hot lines down her cheeks. She pressed the pen back into the doctor's hand and whispered, "Because someone has to. She needs us. And if this saves her life… then I'll do it. Even if it breaks her heart later."
The doctor nodded once, grave, and disappeared back through the swinging doors.
Hazel buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly, while Lily stood frozen in the corridor, staring at the door Saraphina had been taken through.
On the other side, Saraphina lay still, her dreams of love and marriage slipping away—unaware that her first child, the child she never even knew she carried, had already been lost.
And in that sterile room, with cold light and humming machines, a silent vow formed in Lily's chest.
She would protect Saraphina.
No matter what came next.
Saraphina's eyelids fluttered open. The ceiling above her was sterile white, its brightness stabbing into her skull. The steady beep…beep…beep of a monitor echoed in her ears, each sound tugging at her consciousness. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. The smell of antiseptic, sharp and metallic, burned her nose. Her body ached as if she had been torn apart and stitched together with threads made of fire.
A strangled groan slipped from her lips. Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach. Pain throbbed there—deep, hollow, aching in a way she couldn't name.
"Phina…" Hazel's voice broke the silence. She leaned forward, her eyes swollen from crying.
"Don't move," Lily whispered, her hand gently pressing Saraphina's arm. But her voice wavered, betraying the calm she tried to project.
Saraphina blinked at them, confusion fogging her mind. "Where… am I? What… happened to me?" Her throat was dry, the words rasping like sandpaper.
Hazel and Lily exchanged a look. It was the kind of look that said everything without words—the kind that made Saraphina's stomach twist with dread.
"What happened?" she demanded, her voice trembling. "Why does it hurt so much?"
Silence stretched too long. Hazel turned away, biting her lip until it bled. Lily swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around Saraphina's arm.
"You… you were pregnant, Phina," Lily finally said, her words barely above a whisper.
The air left Saraphina's lungs in a sharp gasp. Pregnant? The word didn't make sense. It hung in the air, foreign, alien, impossible. She shook her head, tears already burning her eyes. "No. No, that can't be… I—I didn't even know…"
Hazel's voice cracked. "You miscarried. The doctors had to perform the procedure. The baby… is gone."
Saraphina's heart stopped. For a moment, the monitor seemed to echo the stillness in her chest. Then it hit her all at once, crushing her, stealing her breath. A child. Her child. Christian's child. And now… gone. Taken before she even knew it existed.
A sound tore from her throat, raw and broken, halfway between a scream and a sob. She clutched her stomach, her nails digging into the hospital gown as tears streamed down her cheeks. "No… no, no! Why? Why didn't anyone—why didn't I know?"
Hazel covered her mouth, sobbing openly. Lily held her down, though her own tears fell unchecked. "Phina, please… you were bleeding. You collapsed. If they hadn't acted, you would've…" Her voice trailed off. She couldn't say the word died.
Saraphina shook her head violently, her hair sticking to her damp cheeks. Her mind reeled, flashing back to that cursed day—the whispers, the photographs, the humiliation. Christian's cold words. Ruby's triumphant smirk.
Christian.
Her heart twisted painfully. She remembered the message she had received from his phone—the one that lured her to that hotel room. She remembered the darkened suite, the bitter taste of something in her drink, the dizziness that swallowed her whole. And then… nothing. A stranger's shadow, a faceless memory.
Christian had claimed he was abroad. But she had his message. His phone.
Her chest heaved, bile rising in her throat. Had she been drugged? The thought sliced through her like a blade.
Her fingers clenched the blanket. "Ruby…" she whispered, her voice shaking with fury. The name tasted like poison.
It made sense. Ruby, who had always stolen what was hers—her dresses, her sketches, her father's affection. Ruby, who stood in her place at the altar, basking in applause while Saraphina was dragged out like trash. Ruby, who smiled too sweetly while her eyes glinted with malice.
"Yes," Saraphina breathed, trembling. "It was her. It must have been her. She wanted me ruined. She wanted everything I had."
Her voice cracked as tears fell faster, her body wracked with sobs. "She… she took my life. My love. And now… my child."
Hazel wept silently, clutching her shoulder. Lily leaned close, whispering desperately, "Phina, don't think about it now. Please. You have to rest. You've already suffered too much—"
But Saraphina wasn't listening. Her mind spun in a spiral of despair and rage. Every beat of her heart screamed Ruby's name. Every ache in her body reminded her of the child she would never hold.
Her life, once fragile, had been shattered beyond repair.
And somewhere deep within the ruin, something darker stirred—a seed of resolve.
Ruby had taken everything from her.
But Saraphina swore, with the last pieces of her broken soul, that one day… she would take it all back.
The days that followed blurred together in a haze of medicine and muted sobs. Hazel and Lily cared for her as best they could—bringing food she could not eat, coaxing her to drink water, sitting by her bedside until exhaustion dragged them away. But even friendship had limits. Both girls had their own responsibilities, their own lives waiting beyond the hospital walls.
By the fourth day, Saraphina found herself alone in the sterile white room. The silence pressed down on her chest until she could hardly breathe. The faint scent of disinfectant turned her stomach. The sight of the empty bed beside hers felt like mockery.
She could not stay.
Dragging herself from the bed, her legs weak and trembling, Saraphina dressed in the same clothes she had been admitted with—creased, faded, and smelling faintly of blood and sorrow. Each step toward the hospital doors felt heavier than the last, but she kept moving, her heart whispering a desperate thought: Maybe Christian will believe me. Maybe he will see the truth.
The Miller mansion rose before her, its grand pillars and polished stone gleaming in the afternoon sun. Once, she had imagined it as her home, the place where she would begin her new life as a bride. Now it loomed like a fortress, cold and impenetrable.
She stepped inside.
But the home she remembered had changed. There were maids bustling about, ones she had never seen before, their crisp uniforms too polished for the simple household she once knew. Their curious gazes swept over her, and whispers rose like smoke.
Tessa's voice cut through the air, sharp as a whip.
"You dare come here?"
Saraphina froze as her would-be mother-in-law appeared in the hall, her eyes burning with disgust. "You shameless girl! After betraying my son, you still dare step foot in this house?" She snapped her fingers at the maids. "Throw her out. And get rid of her filthy belongings—everything she touched is trash!"
The words struck Saraphina harder than any blow. She tried to speak, her lips parting, but no sound came.
"Madam, please—" one maid hesitated, pity flickering in her eyes.
Tessa's glare silenced her. "Do as I said. Trash belongs in the gutter."
Saraphina's heart hammered painfully. Her gaze darted toward the door as the sound of a car pulling up reached her ears.
Through the tall windows, she saw them.
Christian's car. And inside, Christian himself—his arm lazily draped around Ruby as they leaned toward each other, lips meeting in a kiss that made Saraphina's stomach twist. Ruby glowed, her hand on his cheek, her smug smile blooming even as their lips parted.
Amelia giggled from the passenger seat, clapping her hands as though witnessing a fairytale.
The world tilted. Saraphina's knees weakened, her body trembling as she clutched the frame of the door for support. Christian—her Christian—looked at Ruby with a softness he had never once given her. Not even on the day he had promised her forever.
Her chest constricted until breathing was agony. Would he even listen if she tried to tell him the truth? Would he ever believe that Ruby had schemed, that she had been drugged, that the photographs were lies?
No. The answer carved itself into her heart as she watched him smile at Ruby as though she were the only woman in the world.
Her lips parted, but no words came. Only silence.
Slowly, she turned away.
Every step she took from the mansion felt like walking through quicksand. Her body was exhausted, her soul hollow. She had nothing left—no home, no child, no love, no future. The hospital bed felt like a prison, her friends' kindness felt like a burden she could no longer impose.
She drifted through the city streets like a shadow, unnoticed, unwanted. The laughter of strangers echoed around her, sharp as glass. The light of day seemed cruel, mocking her hollow existence.
By the time dusk fell, she wandered aimlessly along the quiet outskirts of the city, the world around her dissolving into a blur of gray. Her strength was gone. Her will was gone. She felt lifeless, a ghost wearing the body of a broken girl.
And it was on this path of despair that the abandoned bridge found her.
Saraphina's legs trembled as she clutched the rusting rails of the abandoned bridge. The evening sky bled crimson into the horizon, the river below dark and unwelcoming, like a gaping mouth waiting to swallow her whole. The cold breeze whipped her hair against her tear-streaked face, but she barely felt it. Her entire body was numb, her spirit hollow.
"If I cease to exist…" she whispered hoarsely, her voice carried away by the wind. "Then there will be no more pain. No more humiliation. No more betrayal…"
Her feet edged closer to the drop. One small step, and it would all be over. No more dreams stolen by Ruby. No more cruel sneers from Tessa. No more faceless nights of shame she couldn't erase. Her broken heart clenched as images of Christian's face, once tender, now twisted in disgust, flitted through her mind.
She squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the railing until her knuckles turned white. Why was I even born? Why was I the one to suffer?
And then—
"STOP!"
A voice, deep and commanding, cut through the storm of her despair.
"If you want to die, fine. But before you go—save me."