The window seat was empty. I sat down, enjoying the river breeze on my face. Across the water, city lights shimmered on the surface, breaking into a rippling field of gold.

The first bite of tiramisu melted on my tongue. Sweet, cloying cream collided with the bitter kick of coffee liqueur. I close my eyes.

Damn, this was good. So this was what it felt like to truly be alive.

The comments went quiet for a moment before slowly appearing again.

[She's eating so seriously…]

[Why do I feel oddly sad watching this?]

[She only has ten days to live. If I were her, I'd want one last good meal, too.]

[But seriously, is Blake really just going to let her run around like this? I don't believe that.]

I didn't believe it, either. So when my phone buzzed and Blake's name flashed on the screen, I wasn't surprised at all. I picked up but didn't say anything.

"Anna, where did you go? I'm really worried about you." His voice carried a trace of exhaustion.

"I'm eating."

"Come home, Anna." His tone softened. "We both need to cool down, so I promise I won't bother you tonight. You can take the guest room, and we can sit down and really talk tomorrow. How about that?"

It was such a familiar script.

For six years, each time I got upset, this was how it went. Blake would gently and patiently coax me step by step back into the cage. Then, everything would go back to the way it was.

"Blake." I stared out at the river. "Do you remember my senior thesis performance in college?"

He went quiet for a moment. "Why are you bringing that up now?"

"I played a woman who was locked up. In the end, she burned the whole house down… and herself with it." I dug my spoon into the cake. "Back then, you said I was too extreme in the act and that no one in real life would be that stupid. But I get it now. She wasn't stupid. It was just that the fire was all she had left."

Blake's breathing grew heavier on the other end of the line. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying…" I finished the last bite of cake. "For the next ten days, I'm going to live my own life. Don't look for me, and don't bother me. Don't use my family to threaten me. If I'm still alive in ten days…"

I laughed. "We can go back to playing your game."

…

I checked into the most expensive presidential suite in the city, swiping the supplementary card Blake had given me.

Onscreen, the comments kept coming.

[The presidential suite? She really knows how to enjoy herself.]

[Using Blake's money to stay in such an expensive hotel. This is iconic.]

[She's only got ten days. Let her splurge.]

I dropped my suitcase by the entryway and sank into the bathtub filled with rose petals. The countdown pulsed in my head. 8 days, 14 hours, 32 minutes.

I had eight and a half days to go.

My phone was eerily silent. Blake didn't call me again, which, honestly, wasn't like him.

Later that night, as I lay on the huge bed, I read the comments.

[Is she really just going to sleep? She's got nerves of steel.]

[What's Blake doing? Looks like he's tracing her phone location.]

[Honestly, this feeling of being watched at all times is smothering.]

I was just drifting off when I heard a brutal kick against the door. I jolted upright.

The chat exploded.

[What the heck was that?]

[Someone's breaking in!]

[Is it Blake?]

[I'm freaking out right now!]

Before I could react, the door slammed open with a heavy bang. Blake stood in the doorway, his bloodshot eyes burning like he was beyond furious.

"Joanna Yarrow." His voice was hoarse as he took one deliberate step after another toward me. I instinctively clutched the collar of my bathrobe.

He stopped in front of me, his shadow completely swallowing me up. "Where's Keira?"

I was taken aback. "What?"

"Drop the act." He seized my wrist in a crushing grip, making pain shoot through me. "Where did you take Keira? Answer me!"

"I don't know what you're talking about—"I tried to pull away, but he only tightened his hold.

The comments exploded.

[What the hell? Did Keira get kidnapped?]

[Did Joanna do it? No way. She's been at the hotel this whole time.]

[The timeline doesn't match. When would she have had time to arrange a kidnapping?]

[Blake's lost his mind, hasn't he?]

"Blake, let go of me!" I gasped as pain shot up my arm. "I haven't even seen Keira! These past two days, I've been—"

"I really underestimated you, Joanna. You acted all heartbroken and devastated, then you went and had Keira kidnapped. You're really something else," he snarled.

"I didn't," I ground out.

Blake flung me hard onto the bed, then leaned over me, caging my head between his arms. "This is your last chance. Where is Keira? What did you do to her?"

His breath hit my face, laced with a rage so wild it was almost feral. In six years, I'd never seen him like this.

The comments started splitting into sides.

[Blake is terrifying…]

[But if Joanna really did kidnap Keira, then she kinda deserves this, right?]

[Open your eyes, people! When would she have had time to do it?]

[Could this be a misunderstanding?]

"I told you, I don't know where she is. Look at me, Blake. Have I ever lied to you in the last six years?" I asked.

Blake's eyes widened. For a second, he wavered.

"Keira's phone signal disappeared…" He stared into my eyes, his gaze as sharp as a poisoned blade. "…at the cafe you went to."

A chill swept through me. This was a trap. Someone had set me up.

My voice started to shake. "It wasn't me. I didn't—"

"Enough!" Blake suddenly straightened, pulling a folding knife from his pocket. Then, he grabbed my hand and pressed the blade against my wrist.

"Joanna Yarrow." His voice was so low that it was almost inhuman. "I know you hate Keira for taking me away from you, even though I was never yours to begin with. But you don't get to touch her. I'll ask you one last time. Where is she?"

The blade bit into the skin of my wrist. Bright red blood welled up instantly. Pain shot through my entire body like a live wire, and my vision blurred. Darkness crept in at the edges.

The comments went berserk.

[Blake has seriously lost it!]

[I'm starting to pity Joanna… She really looks like she has no idea what's going on.]

[Say something, Joanna! Lie if you have to! Just say something!]

I parted my lips, but all that came out was a broken rasp. "I… didn't…"

Scarlet blood spread across the clean white sheets. Blake's grip on my wrist was like an unrelenting vice. The blade dug into my skin; every pump of my heart made pain rip through me.

"One last time." His voice sounded like it was coming from far away. "Where is Keira?"

I parted my lips again, but no sound came out. My vision was going dark; all I could make out was the tight line of Blake's jaw and the crazed red in his eyes.

The comments flooded in like a tidal wave.

[She's about to pass out…]

[Blake, let her go! She's actually going to die!]

[Can someone call the cops? This totally counts as aggravated assault!]

[Where's the system? How is this level of violence still allowed?]

The system stayed silent.

Of course. In a romance strategy game, the female side character's life was never a priority. I was just an NPC, a disposable obstacle on the main couple's road to true love. I was the evil backdrop to show how kind the female lead was.

But I could feel pain. Real, searing pain.

"You won't talk, huh?" Blake pressed down even harder.

I heard the soft, sick sound of skin splitting, followed by a fresh, hot rush of blood. Black spots danced in front of my eyes, like static on an old TV that just lost its signal.

Just when I thought I might actually die like this, Blake's phone rang. The moment he saw the caller ID, his eyes widened. He answered almost immediately. "Keira?"

A woman's choked sobs filtered through from the other end of the line. "Blake, I-I got away… They're at an abandoned factory in the western suburbs… They all ran off… I'm so scared…"

"Don't be scared! I'm coming right now!" Blake's voice changed instantly. The cold, ruthless edge from just now vanished, replaced by a tenderness I'd never heard from him before.

"Are you hurt? Find somewhere safe to hide first." He was in such a rush to leave that he even forgot to hang up. He let go of my wrist and bolted for the door.

The blade slipped out of my flesh as he yanked his hand away, ripping the wound further open. A fresh wave of agony tore through me.

I lay helplessly on the bed and watched his back disappear through the doorway.

The comments froze for a second before exploding once again.

[Seriously? He left just like that?]

[Joanna's wrist is still bleeding!]

[Couldn't he have at least called an ambulance?]

[Is this what his so-called love is like? He can just hurt someone else without hesitation for Keira's sake?]

[How did I ever think he was devoted…]

I lifted my uninjured hand with difficulty, trying to reach the phone on the nightstand. My fingertips were shaking. The phone was only inches away, but it might as well have been miles.

The blood kept flowing. A large portion of the sheets was already dark red from my blood, but the stain was spreading wider and wider.

I clenched my teeth and used every last bit of strength to drag myself forward an inch. My fingers finally brushed the edge of the phone.

The comments went wild again.

[Come on! You've got it!]

[Call 911! Hurry!]

[Don't pass out! Stay with us!]

I unlocked the phone screen, but my vision was so blurry I couldn't make out the numbers. All I could do was press 9, 1, 1 from memory and hit the call button.

The dial tone rang in my ear. Once, twice…

My breathing was getting weaker, and more dark spots were eating away at the edges of my vision.

Then, the call connected. "This is 911 Emergency…"

My lips parted. I tried to speak, but I only managed to let out a gasp.

"Hello? Can you hear me? What's your emergency?"

I wanted to say I was at a hotel, that I was bleeding, that I was about to die. But it felt like something was lodged in my throat. I couldn't make a sound.

"Hello? Hello?"

The voice on the other end sounded farther and farther away. The phone slipped from my hand and landed on the carpet with a dull thud.

The comments went crazy.

[No, don't!]

[Somebody help her!]

[Where are the hotel staff? Did no one hear the commotion?]

[Screw you, Blake Stone!]

My consciousness was unraveling. Amid my daze, I felt like I floated upwards. I saw myself curled up in a pool of blood, my face as white as paper.

Then, I saw the comments again.

[Blake just picked Keira up.]

[She threw herself into his arms, crying.]

[He's comforting her and telling her it's okay.]

[She kissed him.]

[They're making out.]

[And Joanna's just lying here, bleeding out.]

The comments paused for a few seconds. Then, they started to shift.

[Suddenly, I just feel… sick to my stomach.]

[What did Joanna do wrong? She just loved the wrong person.]

[She gave her all for six whole years, too.]

[What gives Blake the right to treat her like this?]

[If she dies, then he's a murderer.]

[I want to see him regret this.]

[I want to see him grovel at her feet and beg her to forgive him.]

[But she might not live long enough for that.]

[Is there seriously no one who can go to the hotel to save her? I can't watch this anymore.]

The countdown timer was still on and flickering faintly. 8 days, 9 hours, 1 minute. The game wasn't over yet, but it looked like this player was about to get kicked out early.