(Evelina's POV — Valtore Mansion—continuation)
And then the blue screen bled across my vision, glitching—its words twisting like veins across the air.
[System: You are receiving penalty.][System: You will die in both worlds.]
My eyes widened. Both… worlds?
What… does that—?
COUGH! COUGH!
Don't tell me… I—will—
The champagne flute slipped from my fingers, shattering against the marble. The sound echoed like a gunshot. My vision blurred. My lungs burned. It felt as though something inside me was unraveling thread by thread.
And then, through the static haze, the blue screen appeared again—flickering, desperate.
[System: You have one lifeline remaining.][Use Lifeline?] [YES] [NO]
My trembling fingers hovered.
Y-Yes… yes, I want to use it—please—
I jabbed the glowing button and....
TRING!
Light shattered around me—bright, cold, consuming. The floor gave way, and the world folded in on itself.
Darkness isn't quiet.
It hums. It breathes. It whispers.
And right now… it's whispering my name.
[System: In progress...][Using your last lifeline.]
And just like that—darkness fell. Then—
THUD!
The impact jolted through me. My body hit the floor before my mind could catch up. For a heartbeat, all I heard was static—like the world itself was buffering.
Then sound returned.
"Evelina!""Someone—someone call an ambulance!""Oh my god, she's not breathing—!""Is she—was she poisoned?"
Their voices blurred, echoing through a tunnel of panic and perfume. I tried to move—to speak—but my limbs felt like glass about to shatter. The chandeliers fractured into streaks of light. My chest heaved once, twice—then nothing.
"Stay with us!" someone shouted.
Stay with you? I don't even know where "here" is anymore.
The edges of my vision crumbled. Everything became sound without shape—sirens, heels clattering, whispers cutting through fear.
And then—blank.
Somewhere between heartbeat and silence, I felt myself falling—not through space, but through memories that weren't mine.
***
[Evelina's Memory—The Dream World]
And then… the darkness rippled.
When my eyes opened again, I wasn't in the ambulance. I was standing in a sunlit room—grand, gilded, suffocatingly perfect.
Evelina stood in front of her family. Her head bowed. Her fingers clenched so tightly they trembled.
Shock. Desperation. Shame.
Is this… Evelina's memory?
"Tell me, Eve," her father voice demanded—sharp, furious. "Were you the one who hired those people to bully and harass Sera?"
Evelina's head snapped up. "Why would I do that? What would I gain by doing this? Trust me father....I would never do such things." Her voice cracked—more wounded than angry.
Arden slammed his phone on the table. The screen lit up, showing a video—Evelina's face, talking to a group of rough-looking men.
"Then explain this!" he roared.
Her eyes widened. "I was just talking! It doesn't mean—"
SLAP!
The sound rang like thunder.
Evelina staggered back, her cheek blazing red.
Her mother, Isabella Hartgrave, stood rigid—elegant and merciless. "I can't believe you are this shameless. You keep lying and lying. Why don't you just admit your mistake?"
"But mother, I didn't—"
"I can't believe you were born from me," she hissed. "You're nothing but a monster. This is the first time I regret ever giving birth to such a child."
The words hit harder than the slap.
How… how could a mother say that to her own daughter?
Evelina's eyes filled—anger, disbelief, and heartbreak twisting all at once. "Mother… I didn't—"
But no one listened.
Lucien stepped forward, his tone flat. "The maids heard you on the phone, Evelina. Stop lying. At least admit your mistake now."
"I really didn't—" she paused as her gaze darted between them—her family.
Cold.Closed.Unmoving.
They'd already decided she was guilty.
Then her father—Reginald Hartgrave—rose from his chair, every word cutting like frost.
"Eve," he said softly, like disappointment hurt more than anger. "I told you—Sera isn't here to take your place. We just adopted her so the world won't treat her Harshly. And yet you did something this cruel?" He shook his head. "I am truly disappointed in you."
And just like that… they turned away.
One by one.Leaving.
Sera—perfect, beloved Sera—was the last to go. She hesitated at the doorway, eyes shimmering with pity. Then she reached for Isabella's hand.
The doors closed behind them.
Evelina didn't move.
Her eyes were blank. Her eyes were dry—not because she was strong, but because she had already broken somewhere too deep for tears. She looked so small in that cavernous room—like a ghost trapped in her own home.
And I—watching it all—felt something twist painfully inside me.
So that's why she stopped dining with them. Why she shut herself away. Why the world hated her—and why she let it.
Because the people who should've loved her first… didn't.
The last sound in the dream was the faint, choked whisper leaving Evelina's lips—
"…I didn't do it."
The words echoed through the void like a plea the world refused to hear. Then everything shattered—light, sound, memory—and the darkness swallowed me whole again.
***
(Back to Present—Hospital Room)
Beep.Beep.Beep.
The rhythmic sound cut through the dark like a thread pulling me back. My lungs felt heavy, every breath dragging through molasses. My eyelids fluttered open—too bright, too white.
Sterile light.Antiseptic air.And voices—angry, desperate, familiar.
"She was poisoned, damn it!" Arden's voice slammed against the walls. "So how the hell can she be fine and still not wake up?!"
"Mr. Hartgrave, please—" the doctor's voice trembled. "We've stabilized her condition. The toxins have been neutralized. But her body—her brain—she's still in a comatose state."
Lucien's tone cut sharper, colder. "You're saying she's fine, but she's not awake. That doesn't sound fine to me."
A loud thud—Reginald Hartgrave's hand slammed against the table.
"I want every detail. Every report. Someone did this to my daughter—and I swear, I'll find the bastard who dared touch a Hartgrave."
His voice boomed, trembling between rage and fear.
My lashes fluttered. The light was too bright, the air too sharp.My head throbbed, and every word felt like needles scraping inside my skull.
Stop yelling....
The beeping of the monitor merged with their shouting—an unbearable chorus. I wanted silence. I wanted… peace.
"Shut… up," I rasped. My voice barely escaped my lips—hoarse, broken. But the room fell still.
"Doctor—she's awake!" a nurse gasped as she peeked.
In an instant, footsteps. Movement.
"Evelina!""Eve—thank god—"
And then a familiar warmth—Reginald Hartgrave's hand gripping mine. His face hovered above me, pale and terrified, eyes shining with something almost like love.
"My child…" he breathed, voice cracking. "You're safe now. It's over."
Safe?
That word twisted like a knife.
My throat burned. My chest ached. The images from the dream—her dream—flashed behind my eyes: her mother's slap, her father's disappointment, her brothers' coldness, and the word monster.
Their faces overlapped with the ones standing before me now.
It hurt. It hurt so much I could barely breathe.
"...Lost," I murmured.
Reginald's brows furrowed. "What?"
I forced my eyes open—just a little. The world swam in white and silver, their blurred faces bending like reflections on water.
"I said…" My lips trembled. The taste of blood lingered on my tongue. "Get lost."
The room froze.
"Evelina—" he started, his voice trembling.
"I hate…" My fingers twitched weakly, the monitor beeping faster. "I hate… all…"
The words fell out between breaths, raw and slurred, soaked in years of pain that didn't belong to just me anymore—but to her.
To Evelina.
And before they could answer—before anyone could reach me—the darkness surged again, soft and cold.
"I… hate… all of you," I whispered, my voice fading into static.
The monitor steadied. The lights blurred into nothing. And the world went dark once more.