Chapter 2
Olivia walked in carrying a bowl of steaming soup, smiling gently.
"Emily, it's time to eat," she said softly.
She settled by my bed, scooped up a big spoonful of soup, and let it spill right onto the corner of my mouth.
The scalding liquid trickled down my chin, making my skin flush and sting.
My eyes stared blankly as I felt the soup drip onto the pillow beneath me.
"Oops, Emily, looks like you still haven't figured out how to swallow," Olivia said, gently stroking my cheek. "It's okay. I'll help you with it."
She reached into the nightstand drawer, pulled out my diary, and flipped it open to a random page.
She said, "Emily, listen to this. 'Today, Andrew gave me a rose. I was so happy that I couldn't sleep all night.'"
Olivia mimicked my tone from back then, her voice high-pitched and full of excitement.
"'I just know he likes me, too,'" she read, teasing as she spoke.
She covered her mouth and giggled. "Emily, you were so naive. You know what? Andrew was never into you."
My fingers trembled slightly beneath the blanket.
Olivia closed the diary, walked up to my closet, and pulled out my favorite dress.
"This dress is gorgeous. I bet I'll look amazing in it," she said.
She got changed right there in front of me, then stood before the mirror and sprayed my favorite jasmine perfume on herself, as if to remind me everything that once belonged to me was now hers.
"Emily, I'm about to go on a date with Andrew," she said with a taunting smile.
She spun around for me to see, the dress flaring dramatically with her twirl.
"He said he's taking me to see a movie—the one you've been dying to watch," she added.
Then she left and closed the door, leaving me alone with nothing but the familiar scent of perfume.
Two hours later, Andrew came in.
He was holding a bunch of lilies, a warm smile softening his features.
"Emily, are you feeling well?" Andrew asked, concern flickering in his eyes.
He placed the lilies gently on the nightstand before sitting down right beside me.
"You don't need to worry about anything at the company. I'll take care of everything for you, okay?" he added.
Andrew gently took my hand, his voice soft and tender. "Just get some rest. As soon as you get better, I'll marry you."
I couldn't help but stare at his face—the one I used to fall for so completely.
With every ounce of strength I had left, I managed to move my finger just a little.
The glass slipped off the nightstand and hit the floor with a loud clatter.
Andrew froze instantly, staring at my hand like he'd just seen something impossible.
"Emily?" His voice grew tense with concern.
Olivia burst in at the sound, her face instantly pale as she saw the shards of broken glass on the floor.
"What happened?" she asked.
"The glass fell," Andrew said, his gaze still locked onto my hand.
Olivia hurried over and took my hand, inspecting it carefully.
She said, "Emily's hand was still stiff. Maybe the glass wasn't placed securely."
She glanced nervously at Andrew, a hint of panic flickering in her eyes.
"Andrew, you must have overreacted," she said.
Andrew hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Guess I'm just overthinking it," he muttered, but the uncertainty in his eyes refused to fade.
Olivia called the therapist in.
"You can crank up the current. Emily is plenty tough," she said, her voice chillingly casual.
The therapist stuck the electrodes onto my arm and turned the machine on.
The electricity ripped through me in a flash, and sharp pain had my body jerking uncontrollably.
Olivia watched, her eyes shining with satisfaction at my agony.
She said, "See? Emily's got no idea what's going on. It's just a physiological reaction."
Andrew lingered in the doorway, watching the scene play out. In the end, the suspicion in his eyes melted away.
When the therapy finally ended, I lay sprawled on the bed, helpless and drained. My body kept shivering, little tremors running through me.
Olivia walked over to me, bent down, and whispered right in my ear. "Emily, see? You'll never beat me."
Her voice was barely a whisper, but every word weighed heavily, pressing down on my heart.
"Have some rest, Emily. Tomorrow, we'll do more therapy," she added.
The door clicked shut again.
I shut my eyes and just let the tears stream down my cheeks.