Chapter 2

After the rain stopped, Rosalie returned to the Foster residence, soaked and disheveled. As soon as she reached the entrance, she heard a chaotic jumble of barking echoing from inside the house.

She suddenly remembered something, and her face turned pale as she bolted inside.

The sight that greeted her made her head spin. Jason and Lucia were snuggled together on the couch, watching the scene unfold, snickering from time to time.

In front of them, a vicious dog was circling Rosalie's younger sister, Yvonne Weller, occasionally baring its fangs with a savage snarl.

Yvonne, just ten years old, stood frozen in a stupor, her face draining to a livid.

Rosalie dashed over in a panic, hugging Yvonne tightly. She screamed, "Jason, you know Yvonne has a heart condition. She's terrified of dogs."

Jason lowered his eyes, his tone frigid. "Lucia likes her. We're just making a joke. As long as it makes Lucia smile, Yvonne ought to go along with it."

As soon as Jason finished, Yvonne suddenly collapsed onto the floor, her whole body twitching uncontrollably.

Rosalie's face instantly drained of color. She hugged Yvonne like her life depended on it and yelled at the maids, "Call the doctor, Quick, get a doctor here. Yvonne's heart condition is acting up."

The servant hesitated, looking awkward. "Mrs. Foster, the family doctors were affecting Ms. Lowell's mood, so Mr. Foster had them all sent away."

Rosalie felt a stab of disbelief. 'Jason really kicked out the doctors just because Lucia doesn't want them around?' she wondered.

He knew perfectly well that with Yvonne's condition, she needed a doctor on hand at all times.

Yvonne's convulsions grew more violent in Rosalie's arms, and Rosalie felt herself on the edge of a breakdown.

"Call 911. Hurry, call 911. Yvonne can't hold on. Please, someone, help her. She's all I have left," Rosalie shouted.

Yvonne gripped Rosalie's hand with every ounce of strength she had, trying to speak. Rosalie leaned in, straining to hear, but the words got swallowed in the chaos.

"Yvonne, please, just hold on. The doctor will be here any moment. I'm right here with you," Rosalie murmured.

Tears poured down Rosalie's cheeks like beads falling from a snapped string, her world turning into a blurry haze.

There was nothing she could do; she could only watch as the life slipped away from Yvonne right in her arms.

The Foster residence was so remote that by the time the ambulance finally made it out there, Yvonne's body had long since gone cold.

When the doctors came to take Yvonne's body, Rosalie clung to the stretcher with all her might, her nails digging in so hard her palms started to bleed, only letting go when her strength finally gave out.

Jason suddenly appeared behind Rosalie and pulled her into a stiff embrace, his tone eerily calm. "Stop crying. I'll see to it Yvonne gets buried properly."

Rosalie shoved him off, her hands shaking as she snatched up her phone. She barely had a chance to dial before Jason intercepted her attempt.

Jason yanked the phone from her grip and sent it crashing to the floor, his voice icy with warning. "This was just a prank between Lucia and Yvonne. Lucia had no clue Yvonne's heart would give out. Even if you call the cops, at most it'll be chalked up as an accident."

Lucia peeked out timidly from behind Jason, offering an awkward apology. "Ms. Weller, I'm sorry. That dog is mine, and it would never hurt anyone. I just never thought Yvonne's nerves were that sensitive."

Jason shot Lucia a frown, pretending to comfort her. "None of this is on you, Lucia. You just cared about Yvonne a little too much. No one could've seen this coming."

A joke?

Rosalie couldn't believe her ears.

Disbelief numbed her mind; anger surged through her as she realized that Yvonne's life meant nothing more than a joke to Jason.

Rosalie trembled all over, and in the next second, she coughed up blood and passed out cold.

Rosalie was burning up with a fever of 104°F, and it didn't break for three whole days.

All through those three days, every time Rosalie closed her eyes, she'd dream of the moment Yvonne died, and she'd cry her eyes out in her sleep, heartbroken and helpless.

On the morning of the fourth day, Rosalie was dragged straight out of bed and slammed hard onto the floor.

Jason stood over her, his face ice-cold and fierce, his stare downright menacing.

"I told you already—being my wife means you can have everything but my love. So tell me, what was the point of hurting Lucia?" Jason's voice was glacial.

Rosalie was still frail from the fever, and as she gazed at the man she'd loved for ten years, all she felt was a bitter sense of unfamiliarity.

She'd spent three days delirious with fever, and even now, when he finally came to see her, it was only for Lucia.

"I didn't do anything to her. I don't even know what you're talking about," Rosalie said, her voice trembling.

"You're her therapist. Every single prescription she gets is from you. The meds you gave her are making things worse, and if you keep this up, she's going to suffer herself into depression," Jason spat out.

Rosalie gave a cold, bitter laugh, her voice weak as she forced herself to respond. "I'm a professional. My personal feelings have never touched my work. I prescribed only the routine doses."

Even after she realized Jason had fallen for Lucia, Rosalie never, not even for a moment, harbored any intention of hurting Lucia.

But Jason wasn't buying it. "Stop trying to talk your way out of this. You're her only therapist. Who else could've done it?"

Pain pierced her chest at the cruel irony—this was the man who had once vowed never to leave her, now questioning her because of another woman.

Rosalie just closed her eyes, refusing to say another word.

Jason stubbed out his cigarette and turned, leaving her behind.

The next moment, a group of guys stormed into the room and roughly pinned Rosalie to the ground.

"Who are you? What are you trying to do to me?" Rosalie screamed.

Rosalie thrashed with everything she had, but all her struggling was pointless; they forced a handful of pills past her clenched teeth.

"Mr. Foster said it's time for you to feel exactly what Ms. Lowell goes through. Keep fighting, and you'll never get Yvonne's ashes back," one of them taunted, cold and heartless.

Rosalie squeezed her eyes shut, crushed by despair.

The bitter pills spread across her tongue, and when they pried her mouth open, the taste forced involuntary tears to slip from the corners of her eyes.

She caught a clear look at the label; it was psychiatric medication, the sort that messes with one's head in a healthy person. Hallucinations, crushing depression—they were just part of the side effects.

Rosalie couldn't believe Jason would do something so twisted for Lucia, forcing her to swallow those pills and even threatening her with Yvonne's ashes.

Her vision began to fade, and right before the hallucinations kicked in, she drifted into a long, bittersweet dream.

In that dream, Rosalie found herself years back, sunlight streaming through wisteria blossoms overhead. Jason wrapped her up in his arms, holding her so close it was as if he couldn't live without her.

"Anyone can treat Yvonne's heart. I'll hire the world's best doctors for her. But Rosalie, what's wrong with me inside? Only you can heal it," Jason whispered against her hair.

It was those words that made her change her path—from the heart to the mind—turning herself into a therapist just for him.

Rosalie really thought Jason would look after Yvonne. She really believed he'd love her forever, that he'd never walk away.

It turned out, everything had changed long ago. It was time Rosalie quit fooling herself.