A sharp, searing pain exploded from the back of Daisy’s head, causing her to curl into herself in agony. Her voice barely rose above a whisper, "Help me."

Through her blurred vision, she saw a frantic scene. Heather was being rushed by everyone, their concern palpable as they surrounded her.

Daisy watched helplessly as Desmond scooped Heather up and rushed off with her parents to the hospital, leaving Daisy abandoned, just as she had been before.

The pain in her body intensified and the world around her seemed to darken in waves. Summoning every last bit of strength, she crawled a few meters and, with trembling hands, grabbed the phone that had slipped from her grasp. She dialed for emergency help.

When she finally regained consciousness, barely clinging to life, she was greeted not with concern but with an avalanche of scolding from Desmond and her parents.

"Heather’s ankle is fractured! Don’t you realize she’s a dancer? How will you make up for that?"

"I should’ve known you were a disaster. I should never have let you be born!"

"From now on, you are no longer my daughter!"

Daisy could already guess that Heather had placed all the blame on her once again.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, her thoughts drifting as she listened to her parents’ harsh accusations.

Her gaze shifted to Desmond, who stood silently, his face unreadable. She let out a shaky breath.

If she had the strength, Daisy would have screamed those words out loud, but the oxygen mask on her face and her weakened body betrayed her, leaving her unable to speak.

In the end, it was Desmond who managed to persuade her parents to leave, staying behind himself.

Their eyes met. Desmond reached out, gently touching her pale face. To her surprise, his voice broke the silence, soft and unexpected, a stark contrast to his usual cold demeanor.

"Heather said you tried to drag her down with you."

"I know that’s not what you meant."

Daisy was taken aback. Had Desmond finally seen through Heather’s true nature?

But Desmond’s next words shattered any remnants of hope she had left.

"I consulted a psychiatrist. The doctor mentioned that waking up from a vegetative state could cause personality shifts due to brain trauma."

"I’m sorry. I never considered that possibility before."

Desmond’s eyes briefly flickered with regret and pity. "The Daisy I knew was generous, kind and lovable. But now... you’re so different. It only just hit me why."

"Thankfully, it’s not too late." Desmond took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I’ll make arrangements to get you into the best mental health facility. Don’t worry, Daisy, I’ll help you get better."

He leaned down, his lips brushing her forehead in a soft kiss. "I hope that by the time you’re well again, you’ll return to the person you once were."

The young mistress of the Thomas Family had to be graceful and virtuous. He couldn’t marry someone so extreme, so unstable.

His voice was soft, but Daisy only felt an icy chill crawl up her spine. She tried to protest, but her voice was so faint, it barely caused the oxygen mask to fog.

Desmond wasn’t asking for Daisy’s opinion. After explaining his plan, he turned to her parents.

For an elite family, having a legitimate member branded mentally ill was a shameful taboo, a scandal waiting to burst.

Yet, with Daisy’s constant troublemaking and her reckless attempts to harm others, Hannah hesitated only a moment before giving a reluctant nod.

Samuel, driven by his own hidden agenda and Heather, her heart full of malice, both raised their hands in support.

Heather smiled sweetly. "I know of a rehabilitation center with exceptional confidentiality and treatment. I’m sure they can help my sister."

But then, when no one was looking, she locked eyes with Daisy, whose gaze was filled with panic and desperate pleading.

Heather’s smile turned sly and she silently mouthed, "You’re in my hands now. Let’s see how you’ll escape this time."

A piercing scream tore through the silence in the electroshock room. The figure strapped to the treatment bed thrashed violently, her body writhing and convulsing uncontrollably,

Finally, the excruciating torture ceased. Daisy collapsed onto the floor, utterly broken and defeated.

Someone yanked her hair roughly, dragging her like a lifeless doll back to the hospital room before throwing her carelessly onto the floor.

It wasn’t until the sun began to dip low in the sky that Daisy gathered enough strength to crawl into a corner, curling into a tight, trembling ball.

When she had first arrived here, she’d fought, tried to escape and even contemplated ending it all. But now, all that remained in her heart was terror.

A soft, mocking laugh broke the silence, making Daisy flinch. She looked up to see Heather’s sweet smile.

"How pitiful."

Heather reached out, her fingers gliding over Daisy’s pale cheek. "You know, if you’d just stayed a good little vegetable, things would’ve been so much easier. But no, you had to wake up and fight me for Desmond."

With a cruel twist of her hand, Heather jabbed a needle into Daisy’s arm.

Daisy let out a scream that was so piercing that it seemed to tear through the air.

Heather’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk. Just as she was about to continue, the door flew open and someone rushed in with hurried news. "Mr. Thomas is here."

Heather’s hand froze in mid-motion. She stood, a sinister glint in her eyes and said, "Well then, let’s make sure my dear sister is presentable before he arrives."

The marks of the electric shock were visible, but Heather had been careful to hide the more subtle signs of her cruelty. She had no doubt that Desmond wouldn’t notice a thing.

When Desmond finally arrived, Daisy could no longer hold back. She reached for his hand, clinging to it as if it were her final lifeline, the last thread of hope she had left.

"Daisy, I was wrong. Please, take me away from here," she sobbed, her voice cracking under the weight of despair. Tears streamed down her face as she begged. "I’ll do anything, I promise. Please, I beg you."

The thought of enduring another second in this place felt like it might drive her to madness.

Desmond couldn’t ignore the sight of her, her tear-streaked face and the gauntness that had overtaken her in such a short time.

His heart twisted in sympathy, but before he could say a word, Heather’s voice sliced through the air.

"The early stages of treatment are brutal, I know, I’ve witnessed it myself, but Daisy’s treatment is at a crucial stage now. Stopping could undo all the progress."

She spoke gently, though the smile on her lips was far from warm.

"Besides," Heather continued, her tone sweet, "just look at her. She’s much calmer now, no longer resisting or hurting anyone. The treatment is clearly working."

Desmond’s gaze shifted back to Daisy and he couldn’t deny it.

It was true.

The words he had been about to say caught in his throat, replaced by a soft sigh. "Daisy, I’ll come for you before the wedding. Be good, okay?"

His hand slipped from hers, his touch lingering for only a moment before he turned to leave.

Behind him, Daisy’s voice rang out, raw with desperation. "Desmond!"

His steps faltered for a split second, but he refused to turn around.

At that moment, something within Daisy snapped. The endless disappointment she had felt for this man had finally been overshadowed by a deep, searing hatred.

Desmond had always cherished and protected Heather, but he had never once given her the commitment of marriage. This contradiction, the love he had for Heather and the coldness he showed her, infuriated her to no end.

Heather had longed to end Daisy’s life right then and there, but she knew better. The woman had been sent here because of her own suggestion and any untimely death would surely bring Desmond’s wrath down on her.

But if Daisy died outside, Heather would bear no responsibility.

A cruel smile curled on Heather’s lips, her eyes gleaming with silent, calculated malice.

Late that night, the door creaked open quietly. Daisy curled up in the corner like a wounded animal and instantly lifted her head, her eyes wide with wariness as she watched the door.

But no one entered.

The door, left slightly ajar, seemed to glow with a faint, inviting promise. It beckoned Daisy forward, like a distant dream she couldn’t resist.

Despite knowing it could be a trap laid by Heather, Daisy couldn’t help herself. She pushed herself up, unable to ignore the pull toward freedom.

The hallway was eerily silent, the stillness pressing in on her as she stepped cautiously into it.

Without a second thought, she sprinted into the night, her heart racing with every step.

The alarm screeched to life, its harsh wail splitting the quiet. Floodlights blazed to life, flooding the courtyard in blinding white. The frantic shouts of security guards echoed through the night.

But Daisy didn’t falter. She took off, choosing a random direction and pouring every ounce of strength into her flight.

In the surveillance room, Heather sat back with a satisfied smirk, watching the chase unfold on the monitors. But as the minutes ticked by, a frown slowly began to tug at her features.

Daisy didn’t take the main gate of the sanatorium, as Heather had expected. Instead, she slipped through the back door, her escape route leading her up the mountain.

Heather's heart sank. Was her plan to have Daisy killed on the road about to fall apart?

She cursed under her breath, a storm of frustration brewing inside her. With a sharp decision, she set off after Daisy herself.

But when danger loomed, a person’s potential could stretch beyond reason. Daisy ran with relentless speed and for a while, no one could even come close.

It wasn’t until they reached the cliff's edge that Heather, breathless and frustrated, gritted her teeth and sneered, "Sister, below is an untamed wilderness, untouched and full of wild beasts. If you step into it, you’ll never make it out."

Daisy, however, didn’t even flinch. Without a second thought, she leaped into the unknown.