I huddled in my chair, trying to make myself small. Mark's words swirled around me. I couldn't make sense of them. Why would Jax want to help me? He was the one who ripped my notes. He was the one who called me trash.

My eyes drifted to the empty wall. My mind felt blank, just like the plaster. No notes. No instructions. Just a vast, empty space.

Jax stepped forward. The cameras zoomed in. Their lenses were like hungry eyes.

"Joleen," he said. His voice was harsh. "Seven years. And you still can't take care of yourself? What have you done with your life?"

I looked at him. I remembered his face. The one tearing up my life. The one with the cruel smile. But his name… it was still a blur.

Jax' s face darkened. He hated being forgotten.

Harlow immediately stepped in front of him. Her hand on his chest. A concerned look on her face for the cameras.

"Jax, darling, don't be mad. She can't help it. Her memory is... fragile." She patted his arm. "Don't take it to heart."

Then, she turned to the cameras. Her face softened into a performance of pity.

"We heard about Joleen's situation," Harlow explained to the lens. "I mean, we really thought she was doing well. Seven years ago, we were told she left for... a better life."

She paused, shaking her head sadly. "We never imagined she'd end up like this. So alone. So vulnerable."

"Jax has always felt a deep regret," she continued, her voice full of emotion. "He blamed himself. Thought he wasn't good enough for her. That's why she 'left' him, you see."

"When we came back, the first thing he wanted to do was find her. To make amends. To give her a second chance." Harlow choked back a fake sob. "We just want to fix what was broken."

A few people from the crew murmured words of approval. "So selfless," someone whispered. "What a beautiful story."

My head pounded. Their voices. Their faces. It was too much. I just wanted them to stop.

I stood up. I needed to get away. Back to my room. Back to silence.

Jax's hand shot out. He grabbed my wrist. His grip was like iron.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snarled. His eyes were cold. "You're the star of the show now, Joleen. You don't get to leave."

"You weren't this quiet before," he mocked. "Seven years ago, you had plenty to say. Plenty of fight."

He shoved me back into the chair. Hard. The old wood groaned.

"Start filming!" he snapped at Mark.

Mark nodded eagerly. Cameras swiveled. Lenses focused on me.

"Can we get a tour of the premises?" Mark asked. "Show the viewers her living conditions? Really highlight her struggle?"

Jax waved a dismissive hand. "Go ahead. Film whatever you want. She has nothing to hide. Nothing left, anyway."

The crew swarmed my small house. They filmed my threadbare couch. My faded curtains. My chipped teacups.

They filmed my clothes, hanging on a line to dry. Pale and worn.

They filmed the half-eaten can of soup on my table.

They filmed my bed. The quilt patched in a dozen places.

Then, the neighbors started crowding in. Drawn by the commotion. Drawn by the cameras.

Mrs. Henderson, from next door, pushed her way to the front. She pointed a finger at me.

"Look at her now!" she screeched, her voice shrill. "Used to be such a pretty thing. Thought she was too good for this town. Too good for Jax."

"Ran off with some rich old man, they said. Two-timing little hussy. Thought she hit the jackpot."

"Serves her right, I say! The way she dumped Jax, practically at the altar. Left him heartbroken. Now look at her. What goes around, comes around."

"That rich man probably used her up and tossed her out," another neighbor chimed in. "Now she's got nothing. Brain's gone. Stares into space all day. If her parents hadn't left her this house, she'd be begging on the streets."

I couldn't understand all their words. They were just a jumble of angry sounds. But I felt their eyes. Staring. Judging. Like I was a broken exhibit in a museum.

Harlow floated over. She put a hand on my shoulder. Her touch felt icy.

"Please, everyone," she said, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Let's not dwell on the past. It's so sad to see Joleen like this."

She glanced at a cameraman, a subtle wink.

I flinched. Her touch felt wrong. I pushed her hand away. I stood up. I just wanted to hide. To disappear.

"Please," I whispered. My voice was hoarse. "Stop. Go away."

Jax was there in an instant. His hand clamped around my arm. "Don't you dare," he growled. "Don't you dare ruin this."

"You love money, right?" he sneered. "Well, this show will bring in plenty of donations. Enough for you to live comfortably. For the rest of your pathetic life."

He squeezed my arm. "Or are you trying to play coy again? Trying to make me feel guilty? Cry and scream like you used to? Like seven years ago?"

A few muffled laughs from the crew. The sound felt like sandpaper on my skin.

My head pulsed. The noise, the lights, the angry faces. It was all swirling around me. My brain felt like it was going to explode.

"Get out!" I screamed. My voice was raw. Louder than I thought it could be. "All of you! Get out of my house!"

My vision went black. The floor rushed up to meet me.

I woke up to the smell of antiseptic. A hospital bed beneath me. A needle in my hand. Clear liquid dripping into my veins.

A doctor stood by the bed. His brow was furrowed. He looked worried.

"Joleen Spencer?" he asked softly.

I nodded. My throat felt dry.

"We couldn't reach your emergency contact," he said. "Your brother, Colton. Do you know where he is?"

Colton. My brother. The Post-it notes mentioned him. But where was he?

"I don't know," I whispered.

The doctor sighed. He looked at me with sad eyes.

"You collapsed from severe malnutrition and extreme emotional stress," he explained gently. "You need to stay here for observation. We've contacted the police to help find your brother."

Just then, the door creaked open. Footsteps.

Jax and Harlow walked in. They carried a fruit basket. And a bouquet of flowers. Smiling. Concerned.

Behind them, a cameraman. His lens pointed directly at me.

"Joleen, darling, you're awake!" Harlow exclaimed, rushing to my bedside. Her voice was too bright. "How are you feeling, sweetie? The doctor said you'll be fine, just need some rest and good food."

She placed the fruit basket on the nightstand. It felt heavy. Too heavy.

Jax stood by the door. Just watching. His eyes were unreadable.

I looked at them. Then at the camera. I pulled the blanket higher, trying to hide.

The doctor turned to Jax and Harlow. His eyebrows were practically touching his hairline.

"Who are you people?" he demanded. His voice was firm. "This patient needs rest. You need to leave. Now."

Harlow chuckled. A light, airy sound. "Oh, we're Joleen's friends. And this is our film crew. We're just here to check on her. And to inform the public about her situation, so people can help."

The doctor opened his mouth to argue. But Jax cut him off.

"We won't be long," Jax said. His voice was low, laced with an unspoken threat. "Just a few shots. Then we'll be gone."

The doctor looked at Jax. Then at the cameras. He sighed again. He turned and walked out, his shoulders slumped.

Harlow sat on the edge of my bed. She took my hand. Her touch was still cold.

"Don't worry, Joleen," she cooed. "We'll take care of you. It's just so sad you're all alone. No one to look after you."

She squeezed my hand. "Once the show airs, your brother will see. He'll rush back. He'll want to protect you. Just like Jax is protecting you now."

I tried to pull my hand away. Her fingers were like ice around mine.

Jax saw my movement. He let out a cold laugh.

"What now, Joleen?" he sneered. "Too good to even be touched? Look at yourself. What dignity do you have left?"

He stepped closer to the bed. "You will cooperate. You will finish this show. Or I promise you, I have a hundred ways to make you disappear."

My body started to tremble. I didn't know what to do. I just wanted them to leave.

Suddenly, the door to the hospital room burst open. It slammed against the wall with a crash.

A man stood there. Tall and broad-shouldered. His eyes swept across the room. They landed on me.

His voice was like a storm. Cold. Furious. "Who the hell touched my sister?"

Colton. My brother. His eyes were red. They burned with a fury I hadn't seen in years.

He saw the needle in my hand. His gaze hardened. His jaw clenched.

"Colton," I whispered. My voice was weak.

He turned slowly. His finger pointed at Jax.

"You," Colton snarled. "You again. What are you doing here? Haven't you done enough to her?"

His voice cracked with emotion. "Seven years ago, you broke her. And now you come back to film her? To humiliate her? Do you want her dead?"

Jax looked surprised for a moment. He hadn't expected Colton. Then a sneer twisted his lips.

"Colton Spencer," Jax said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Still the loudmouthed thug, I see. What, did you just get out of prison? Or are you just here to collect your sister and disappear again?"

"Your sister," Jax continued, "made her own choices. She wanted the money. She betrayed me. Now she's paying the price. And I, being the good samaritan, am here to help her 'redeem' herself."

Colton let out a bitter laugh. "Help her? With cameras? You call this 'help'? You're exploiting her! Using her for your damn reality show!"

He pointed at Harlow. "And you! You conniving little bitch! I know you're behind this. Filling his head with lies. Stirring up trouble."

"Get out!" Colton roared. His voice echoed in the small room. "Get out of my sister's sight, both of you!"

Harlow flinched. Her face went pale. She hid behind Jax.

"Colton, please," Harlow whimpered, her voice shaky. "We mean well. We really do."

"Shut up!" Colton snapped. "Don't you dare call me Colton. You make me sick."

He stepped closer. "Or should I tell the cameras what you did back then? To Joleen? What a real 'bitch' you were?"

Jax's face stiffened. He shot a warning glance at Harlow. She shrank further behind him.

Jax took a step towards Colton. His eyes narrowed.

"I tried to be civil with you, Colton," Jax said, his voice low and dangerous. "Because of who you are. But don't push it."

"This show is happening," Jax declared. His gaze was fixed on Colton. "And you and your sister will cooperate."

He gestured to his crew. "Keep filming. Get this. The caring brother. The emotional reunion. The viewers will love it."

He smirked. "We'll show them how I'm the victim here. And how you two are just crazy, ungrateful people."

Colton's body trembled. His fists clenched.

Then, with a roar, he lunged. His fist connected with Jax's jaw. A sickening crunch.

Jax stumbled back. His hand flew to his mouth. Blood bloomed on his lip.

He wiped it away with the back of his hand. His eyes, burning with hatred, locked onto Colton.

"You bastard!" Jax screamed. He lunged back.

The room erupted into chaos. Bodies collided. Shouts filled the air.

Harlow shrieked. The crew scrambled to pull them apart. But it was too late.

The cameras kept rolling. Capturing every punch. Every furious scream.

I sat on the bed. My mind a blank. Why were they fighting?

"Stop it!" I cried. My voice was a tiny squeak. Lost in the noise.

Colton and Jax were a tangle of limbs and fury. The fruit basket crashed to the floor. Oranges and apples rolled everywhere.

Harlow watched the brawl. Her eyes glinted. A plan forming.

She suddenly let out a piercing scream. She ran between the two men. Pretending to break them apart.

Colton's fist swung out. He tried to stop. But it was too late. His fist grazed Harlow's shoulder.

Harlow let out another ear-splitting shriek. She collapsed to the floor. Rolling. Clutching her arm.

"My arm! My arm! It's broken! He broke my arm!" she wailed.

Jax stopped fighting. His eyes wide with shock. He rushed to Harlow's side.

He knelt. He pulled her into his arms. Her shoulder was red where Colton's fist had brushed it.

Jax's head snapped up. His eyes, now bloodshot, glared at Colton.

"You animal!" Jax roared. "You touched my woman! If she's hurt, if even one hair on her head is harmed, I swear to God, I'll make you and Joleen pay. I'll make you both regret the day you were born!"