The doctor abruptly ended the call, cutting off mid-sentence.

Upon receiving the news, Emily tasted something metallic at the back of her throat, leading to a sudden bout of vomiting and a pounding headache.

"The patient has suffered severe brain trauma and needs immediate surgery to relieve intracranial pressure and check for any signs of internal bleeding," the doctor announced.

"Where are the family members?"

Emily heard this just before losing consciousness, slipping into a deep, heavy sleep.

・・・

When she eventually awoke, she found herself unable to move, her eyelids heavy and unresponsive. All she could do was listen.

Time felt suspended until the doctor's voice shattered the silence: "Due to severe brain damage, the patient is in a vegetative state. Whether she wakes up will depend on her survival instincts. We've done everything possible."

Seth's voice was filled with anxiety. "Is it that serious? When will she regain consciousness? The design competition is coming up, and her sketches are not finished!"

If only she could speak, Emily would have demanded to know if Seth had any sense of decency. She had risked her life to have his child, yet all he cared about was her waking up to continue being a tool for his creativity.

The doctor sighed. "If she doesn't wake up within the first three months, the chances of recovery decrease significantly. Although she's in a coma, she might still be able to perceive things. You can try talking to her or holding her hand to see if it strengthens her will to live."

Their footsteps gradually faded away.

Soon after, Emily sensed someone else approaching.

"Emily Wagner, long time no see, huh? But look at the state you're in now—what a disaster! I remember when I asked Seth to stop you from entering the competition. He complied by crashing into you, leaving you in this vegetative state. Watching you bleed out, I genuinely felt sorry for you!"

Emily felt a jolt deep inside, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Was it really Seth who hit her? Even though she knew he was heartless, confronting the reality of his cruelty chilled her to the bone.

"So what if you're talented? I told him I wanted to marry Magnus, so your husband conveniently arranged for someone to sabotage your career."

"I mentioned that you might make a comeback in the design industry after reconstructive surgery, and he assured me he'd never let that happen."

"So, all your hard work only paved the way for me to become number one."

The attack on her reputation hadn't been an accident—it was Seth's doing?

She had loved him wholeheartedly for five years, dreaming of a future together.

Despite enduring years of professional ridicule, she thought he was shielding her from gossip and slander. But it turned out he was the root of all her suffering.

No wonder every time she talked about rekindling her career, he'd argue against it, claiming appearances didn't matter and that he just wanted her to be a homemaker. His so-called acceptance was just a setup for Iris Flores.

Her achievements were mere gifts to the woman he truly loved.

"You were only ever worthy of taking off my shoes, nothing more than a stepping stone," Iris sneered, her voice laced with arrogance and spite.

If Emily could rise, she would tear Iris apart.

"The doctor said she might feel and hear things? What nonsense! Not even this kind of provocation gets a reaction."

"Just look at yourself! Washed up and still trying to compete with me—keep dreaming!"

Hearing this, Emily felt her eyes sting and swell with discomfort.

Could someone in a vegetative state actually cry?

Iris let out an amused scoff.

"Oh wow," she whispered. "You can hear me, can't you?"

She leaned in, her perfume suffocatingly sweet.

"Pathetic."

The door clicked shut.

Silence settled once more.

But this time, something was different.

Something inside Emily had changed.

The rage burned brighter.

The grief twisted sharper.

The hatred sank deeper.

She would wake up.

She would rise again.

And when she did—

She would burn them all to the ground.

"Iris, why are you still here?" Seth Kelly's voice disrupted the quiet room.

Iris Flores immediately began to cry, "Seth, it's all my fault. If I hadn't asked for your help, Emily wouldn't be..."

Then—a dramatic gasp.

Fabric rustled as she collapsed into his arms.

Emily could hear it, could picture it—Iris trembling, playing the victim, burying herself against Seth's chest like some fragile, wounded creature.

Seth exhaled heavily, his fingers probably stroking her hair in that mockingly gentle way he used to touch Emily.

"This might be for the best." he murmured, his voice low. "Now she can't compete. She's too obsessed with winning."

"A car accident was the simplest way to sideline her. And you, with your image, are more likely to win, which benefits Kelly Jewelers' image. She never got that simple point..."

Iris quickly wiped her tears, breaking into a smile, "You're always so insightful, Seth."

So, he was indeed the mastermind behind the accident.

The realization sent a shiver down her spine.

After being disfigured, she did consider leaving the dazzling world of jewelry design. But five months into her pregnancy, Seth had urged her to join the prestigious competition, insisting he wanted to support her dreams and let her talent shine.

She believed him, grateful to have someone who seemed to value her.

For three months, she locked herself away, sacrificing sleep and pouring everything into her designs.

But he only wanted her work to please his lover.

Seth married her for Iris, lied to her for Iris, and ultimately took her child's life for Iris, leaving her trapped in a nightmare.

Loving Seth was the biggest mistake of her life.

She once thought he would protect her from life's storms, not realizing he was the storm.

"I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for your care during those three years I was in a coma. I owe you everything," Seth said earnestly.

Iris blushed slightly, "I only did what I could. Let's not dwell on it."

Three years in a coma?

Soon after marrying Seth, she had a terrible fall and fell into unconsciousness.

Worried others wouldn't care for him adequately, she didn't hire a nurse, tending to Seth herself for three years.

She rarely mentioned that difficult time, not wanting to embarrass him over being incapacitated.

Yet, how did it end up being Iris who cared for him for three years?

She forced herself to keep listening.

"Seth, the doctors say Emily might still have some awareness. I think... I should return this locket to her. It was her mother's keepsake. Ever since you gave it to Buddy, I've felt uneasy."

While speaking, Iris feigned reluctance, fiddling with a silver bracelet on her wrist.

"Don't talk about unease. You saved my life. That locket is nothing compared to your happiness. Since Buddy has it, that's where it will stay."

Iris hesitated, biting her lip, "Are you sure that's okay?"

The words hit Emily like a lightning bolt, filling her heart with an overwhelming ache.

Seth, how could you?

Her mother's cherished heirloom, given to Iris's pet dog just to appease her?!

She wanted to scream, but only bitterness filled her throat. An intense pain gripped her chest.

No wonder she never found her mother's locket. Seth had deceived her, claiming she had misplaced it, promising to buy her another.

She had told him countless times it was her last connection to her mother, and he had embraced her, soothing her tears with false compassion.

How could he be so heartless?

She longed to fight back, but felt utterly powerless.

Despair consumed her.

"Thank you, Seth. No one treats me like you do," Iris's voice was full of delight.

Then came Seth's labored breathing.

"Iris, don't."

"Seth, this is what I owe you. You've lost a child, Emily is unwell, and I want to be there for you."

"Iris, Emily is still here; she'll hear us," Seth protested weakly.

"Seth, do you not love me anymore? Have you fallen for this disfigured woman?" Iris cried, with the innocence of a lost kitten.

Seth hesitated briefly but then pulled Iris into his arms, kissing her softly.

She could hear the labored breathing, the rustle of clothes, the soft sounds of movement, the quiet gasps.

Right in front of her, they had no shame.

She wanted to frown, but lacked even the strength for that.

She didn't want to hear anymore, truly didn't. It felt as if some force was draining her from within.

The monitoring equipment beside her started blaring with alarming beeps.

Numerous medical staff rushed in.

The heart monitor's steady beeping turned erratic.

Nurses rushed into the room, their voices a frantic blur.

Emily felt something tighten inside her chest, a sharp, unbearable pain that seized her lungs and stole her breath.

She could feel herself slipping, fading into the darkness once more.

No.

Not yet.

She wouldn't die here.

Not like this.

Not when she hadn't made them suffer yet.