Chapter 7

In the days following my awakening, Sophia Williams became my shadow.

Her care bordered on obsession—every meal had to be fed to me by her own hand, and she even insisted on helping me to the bathroom.

One day, I caught her lingering outside the restroom, forcing me to quickly lock the door.

Was this girl trying to turn me into a complete invalid?

"Sophia, I'm craving dessert from the shop downstairs," I said, making up an excuse to send her away.

The moment I confirmed she was gone, I threw off the covers and attempted to walk on my own.

The doctor had said light activity would aid my recovery—I was sick of being treated like a fragile doll.

My legs felt stronger than expected, and I hummed a tune in triumph as I made my way to the bathroom.

But the moment I turned, my knees buckled without warning, sending me crashing hard into the sink.

Warm liquid trickled down my forehead as I struggled to push myself up, accidentally yanking down the cloth covering the mirror.

The grotesquely distorted face staring back at me sent a chill through my bones.

"Lucas!"

Emily Johnson burst in and wrapped her arms around me, pressing her palm tightly over my eyes. "Don't look... don't look at that..."

Her voice trembled. "Where the hell is Sophia? Is this how she takes care of a patient?"

I pried her fingers away. "Don't blame Sophia. I was the one who overestimated myself."

Blood dripped from my chin onto my hospital gown. "She took extended leave for me—her parents are practically disowning her. And you? Where have you been all this time?"

Emily fell silent.

Fumbling, she grabbed tissues and pressed them to my wound, the pristine white instantly staining a shocking crimson.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her voice was hoarse. "You'd rather let an outsider see you like this than—"

"What good would telling you do?"

I turned my head, avoiding her shaking hands. "Last month, when the pain knocked me unconscious, I called you seventeen times. A nurse later told me you were at a bar celebrating Ethan's birthday."

Emily froze.

Of course she didn't know—that day, when I was rushed into the ER, I'd still been clutching a photo of us together.

"You're cruel, Lucas."

She suddenly laughed, but tears rolled down her cheeks in thick drops. "Yes, I'm a bastard. I'm blind. I deserve this. But can't you... can't you give me a chance to make it right?"

I gazed out the window at the falling sycamore leaves, remembering that the day of my diagnosis had been bathed in the same golden twilight.

Back then, I'd sat outside the doctor's office, scrolled through my contacts, and in the end, only called Sophia.

"No need," I said softly. "Emily, what's left of my life is too short to survive another betrayal."