Chapter 3

When I plummeted down the cliff two years ago, my liver suffered severe damage, forcing doctors to remove most of it.

Back then, while I was clinging to life, Alexander had tried to reassure me, "You're lucky—the liver can regenerate. In a year or so, it'll grow right back."

He had made it sound so easy then, and I had forced a smile to match.

But my health was already frail, compounded by a history of hepatitis. Recovering from a trauma like that was never going to be simple.

And now, the other shoe had finally dropped.

Alexander led me into his office and brought himself to tell me the truth. "It's liver failure. With proper treatment, you can hang on for at least another six months or so."

He turned his head away as he spoke, unable to look me in the eye.

I understood what he was really saying. My time was up—I had six months left, at most.

It took a long while before Alexander brought himself to look back at me.

His eyes were heavy with grief and sympathy. "Claire, forgive me for saying this, but have you considered letting Eleanor go? You could save that money to get yourself treated instead."

Over the past two years, Eleanor had burned through a fortune in medical bills, showing not a single sign of waking up.

Yet she was the only family member left in this world who had ever treated me with kindness.

She lay there now, unable to move or open her eyes.

But whenever I sat beside her, watching the pale condensation misting inside her breathing mask, I knew with absolute certainty that she was still breathing.

She was still alive. She was still here.

This was the woman who had raised me for over twenty years—the same Eleanor who never once thought of abandoning me, no matter how tough or painful life got.

Asking me to give up on her now was something I simply couldn't do.

Besides...

I glanced down at the medical report on his desk, pulling my lips into a bitter smile. "Even if I saved up the money, could this really be cured?"

Alexander went completely silent.

It was a long time before he spoke up again. "We could try for a transplant. There's a chance we might find a matching liver."

He was using a near-impossible long shot just to offer me a shred of comfort.

But I was well past the age of believing in fairy tales.

Finding a matching liver was an astronomical long shot on its own, to say nothing of the microscopic odds that my broken body would even survive the transplant surgery.

And the sheer cost of sourcing and replacing a liver—a number so staggering it was pure fantasy to someone like me.

I was realistic about my situation.

The only money I had coming in was the thirty dollars a day I made wiping tables at the diner—and that was before factoring in the massive debt I already owed Alexander.

I forced a faint smile, trying to keep my tone light. "I'll think about it."

Alexander took a deep, shuddering breath, unable to hide the sorrow etched across his face.

"I heard Ethan's business is huge now," he said, his voice raspy. "The news said he's coming to Southvale next week, right? Maybe you could explain what happened back then and ask him for help."

Alexander had no idea that Ethan was the one who had us dumped in Southvale and pushed off that cliff two years ago.

In his mind, Ethan was just my ex-boyfriend.

Back then, everyone claimed I was merely playing with Ethan, using him for entertainment.

Only Alexander had ever looked at me and said, "You genuinely loved him."

But what did love matter now?

I let out a lifeless chuckle. "Forget about explaining. He'd never believe me."

He just didn't believe me—and thought the whole thing was a joke.looked frustrated on my behalf. "How do you know he won't believe you if you don't even try?"

I met his gaze, my face completely numb. "I did try," I said softly. "I told him."

He just didn't believe me—and thought the whole thing was a joke.

Alexander's eyes welled up.

Overcome with emotion, his hand trembled as he reached out, pressing down on my wrist through my sleeve. "Claire, how could you—"

Before he could finish, a cold, amused voice chimed in from the doorway behind me. "Claire."

The speaker laughed, a sound dripping with contempt and irony.

He drawled out my name, savoring it on his tongue as if grinding it down between his teeth, eager to chew it to pieces.

I froze, hit by a bolt of pure lightning.

I never expected that after I ran into the hospital, Ethan's suspicions would be aroused enough for him to follow me inside.

An icy chill ran straight through my body. Panicking, I grabbed a surgical mask off the desk with trembling hands and shoved it over my face.

But given how much my appearance had already changed over the last two years, a reaction like that was practically a full confession.

Alexander stared in utter shock, his hand still frozen on my wrist.

The heavy thud of approaching footsteps echoed behind me. The sound felt like a hand slowly wrapping around the back of my neck.

I wanted to run, but my legs wouldn't work; I couldn't move a muscle.

Ethan stepped up beside me. His dark, smooth voice sent a violent shiver down my spine. "It is you."