Chapter 4

I staggered toward Jessica, my grief a suffocating weight. "My son is dead. He's gone," I whispered, my voice cracking as tears blurred my vision.

I let out a twisted laugh, a mix of agony and madness. "And I want you to pay for it. With your life."

I lunged at her, fury driving every movement. But before I could even touch her, a sharp blow struck the back of my head, and everything went dark.

The blond guy, bat still in hand, looked down at me, his voice filled with mock concern. "Sis, you alright?"

Jessica let out a sigh of relief, brushing her hair back as she waved him off. Then, without warning, she stomped down on my face. "You think you can touch me? You’re nothing. Worthless."

Her heel crushed my vision, sending a fresh wave of pain shooting through my skull.

As the darkness pulled me under, I heard the blond guy’s voice again, distant and cold. "Sis, does it not matter that the kid’s dead?"

Jessica didn’t even blink. "This is an ER. People die all the time. Besides, he came in too late. Didn’t even make it through triage."

Their laughter faded as I succumbed to unconsciousness.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in an operating room, strapped down. Cold metal pressed against my skin, and panic gripped my chest. I fought against the restraints, but my body refused to obey.

Then I saw her.

Jessica, now in a lab coat, walked into the room with an air of authority. Her eyes met mine, cold and indifferent. "Stop struggling. It’s useless."

I choked out, "What do you want from me?"

Her lips twisted into a cruel smile. "You think you can still win? You, Brandon Mitchell’s first love, with his child? Well, now that the kid’s gone, let me help you with the rest."

Tears streamed down my face as she said those words, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My son. He was really gone.

But it wasn’t over. Not yet.

She pulled a scalpel from her coat, her expression malicious. "You think you’re still beautiful enough for him? Let’s see."

I opened my mouth to scream, but she stuffed a filthy rag into it, stifling my cries.

"This is an operating room," she said, her voice low and taunting. "If you scream too loud, it’ll disturb the other surgeries. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

I could barely keep my stomach from turning, but I knew that the real horror was what was about to come.

With a sick smile, she pressed the scalpel to my skin, and the cold metal bit into my flesh. The pain was excruciating, and I felt my body go rigid with shock.

Jessica leaned over me, her breath hot against my ear. "Without your looks, how will Brandon still want you?"

Her laughter was sharp, cutting through the room like a blade.

I closed my eyes, sinking into the truth I didn’t want to face. My son was gone. My dignity was gone. Was this really the end?

Then, the door swung open.

Brandon’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. “Jessica?”