Eva POV:

A three-year-old. And another on the way. My mind, still grappling with the impossible, did the math. Derek had moved on, not months, but years ago. His "five-year search" for me? A lie. A cruel, elaborate charade. He hadn't been searching for me; he'd been building a new life, a new family. My ghost was a convenient scapegoat for his new happiness.

The irony tasted like ash in my mouth. He spent five years supposedly looking for me, only to seal me away again when I finally returned. He wanted to marry Casey. He wanted me to die, quietly, conveniently, so his perfect new life wouldn't be disturbed.

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped my lips. It was a raw, dry sound.

"Explain?" I rasped, the word a curse. "There's nothing to explain, Derek. Your actions speak louder than any words you could ever conjure."

I turned away from their sickening display, my gaze falling on the pile of jagged rocks. I had to get out. My broken body, my dying body, needed to move. My hands, raw and bleeding from my desperate escape from the simulation, clawed at the stone. Each movement sent agonizing bolts of pain through my arm, up to my shoulder, but I ignored it. I had to.

Tears streamed down my face, hot trails mixing with the cold sweat and grime. My fingers, scraped and torn, were slick with blood, but I kept digging. I wouldn't die here. Not like this. Not after everything. My parents. I needed to see my parents. They would listen. They would understand. They would love me.

A faint sliver of light, almost imperceptible, peeked through a crack in the rockfall. A tiny beacon of hope. My breath hitched. I pushed harder, a desperate sob tearing from my throat.

Just then, Casey' s voice, a sickeningly sweet whisper, cut through the air. "Derek, look!"

I heard a sudden shriek, then a thud. I spun around, my heart pounding. Casey lay on the ground, curled into a ball, clutching her abdomen. A dark, wet stain bloomed beneath her.

"My baby!" she wailed, her voice piercing. "She pushed me! She pushed me!"

Before I could react, a heavy boot slammed down on my outstretched hand, pinning it to the ground. Bone-jarring pain shot up my arm, a sickening crunch echoing in the cavern. I screamed, a primal sound torn from my throat. The familiar, bone-deep agony. It was the same pain I felt when the creatures in the simulation broke my limbs, when I starved, when I was tortured. This wasn't the simulation. This was real. This was Derek.

He ripped his foot away, then roughly pulled Casey to her feet, his face contorted with fury. He didn't even glance at my mangled hand. He just kicked at the pile of loose rocks near the entrance, sending them crashing down, further sealing me in.

"You monster!" he roared, his voice shaking with rage. "You tried to kill my child! You tried to hurt Casey!" His eyes burned with hatred. He hadn't seen anything. He hadn't asked. He just assumed. His love, his devotion, was a shield for her, a weapon against me.

The betrayal was complete. It wasn' t just that he had moved on. It was that he saw me as a villain, a threat, an inconvenience to be discarded.

I bit down on my lip, hard, until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. My mangled hand, almost certainly broken, trembled as I slowly pulled it from beneath the rocks. I looked at Derek, my eyes burning with a hatred that mirrored his own.

Eva POV:

My stare only fueled his rage. His face twisted into a snarl. He bent down, his powerful hands gripping a jagged piece of rock, half the size of my head. He didn' t hesitate. He brought it down, with brutal force, on my already injured ankle.

A piercing scream tore through me. My body collapsed, writhing on the damp earth. The pain was blinding, all-consuming. My foot felt detached, a useless appendage. My vision blurred. I stared at him, my eyes wide with a mixture of shock and profound disappointment. This twisted, violent man was the one I loved? The one I almost died for?

"You won't ruin my wedding, Eva," he spat, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Just three days. What's three days in a cave? It's not like you're going to die."

My leg throbbed, a sickening purple rising beneath my shredded trousers. The ankle was a grotesque, unnatural angle. I felt the blackness creeping in, threatening to swallow me whole. But I fought it. I had to say it.

I struggled to lift my head, my voice barely a whisper. "I have three days, Derek. My life support... it's programmed to shut down. This isn't a game. I came back to say goodbye."

My words hung in the air, heavy and ignored.

"I wish you and Casey all the happiness in the world," I choked out, the lie tasting bitter. "Just… let me see my parents. Please. One last time."

I pictured them, their faces etched with five years of grief, grey-haired, stooped, heartbroken. The thought of them, still loving me, still waiting, was the only thing keeping me from giving in to the darkness. I dragged myself forward, inch by painful inch, pulling with my good arm, my broken ankle useless, my mangled hand searing with pain.

He watched me. Not with pity, not with compassion, but with a cold, almost detached expression. He picked up another rock. Smaller this time, but still lethal. He brought it down on my wrist, the sickening crack echoing in the confined space.

I screamed again, a raw, animal sound. My other hand, the one I had used to dig, now lay a mangled mess. He stepped closer, his voice low, mocking.

"Don't bother, Eva. They won't believe your ghost stories. Not after what Casey told them." His voice was chillingly calm. "And besides… they're already here."

My heart stopped. My blood ran cold. "No," I whispered, the word a desperate plea. "They wouldn't. They love me."

I tried to push past my broken body, to demand answers, to see them. My throat tightened. The words wouldn't come.

Then, two figures emerged from the shadows behind Derek. My parents.

Eva POV:

My mother' s eyes were red, her hand cupped over her nose, as if to ward off a stench. Not from the cave, not from the dust, but from me. I felt it, a visceral punch to the gut. This wasn't the comfort I craved.

"Eva," my mother said, her voice trembling, but not with grief for me. "We know everything. Casey told us how you hurt her again." Her gaze was cold, accusing. "Why did you come back? Just to cause more trouble?"

She stepped closer to Casey, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her into a protective embrace. "Our sweet girl," she murmured, stroking Casey's hair. "You've been through so much."

Then she turned back to me, her voice hardening. "Wait three days, Eva. Just three days. Let them have their wedding. Then… then we' ll come back for you. When you' ve learned your lesson. And don't you dare try to take anything else from Casey."

My father stepped forward, his face, usually so warm and kind, was a mask of stern disapproval. His hand rested gently on Casey's uninjured arm, a rare tenderness in his touch, a tenderness he now reserved for her.

Casey. Their new daughter. The one who had replaced me, not just in Derek' s heart, but in theirs.

My eyes widened. My mouth opened, but no words came out. It was a silent scream.

"Mom? Dad?" I choked out, hot tears streaming down my face. "It's me. Your daughter. Your real daughter. The one you searched for, the one you mourned. How can you believe her over me? After five years?"

Casey, seeing my desperation, collapsed again. A sharp, theatrical cry escaped her lips. This time, it was worse. A dark, viscous liquid seeped from beneath her, staining the damp earth. Blood.

She writhed, clutching her stomach, then gasped, crawling towards the pile of rocks that sealed me in. "No, Eva, don't! I'll move them! I'll get you out! Even if it kills my baby, I won't let you hurt Mom and Dad anymore!" She clawed at the stones, her face contorted in a grotesque parody of sacrifice.

She grabbed my broken hand, the one Derek had crushed, and yanked it towards her, pulling me closer. "You deserve a happy ending, Eva! I don't! I'll sacrifice everything! Just… just don't hurt them! Don't ruin their lives because of me!" With a guttural sob, she used my broken hand to slap her own face, hard. Again. And again.

I stared, numb with horror, as she used my hand, my own flesh and blood, to inflict violence upon herself. The pain in my wrist was excruciating, the bone grinding against itself. I ripped my hand free, a desperate, reflexive gesture.

That was all it took.

My father roared. His foot connected with my ribs, a brutal, bone-shattering kick that sent me flying across the cavern. I slammed against the cold rock wall, my breath knocked out of me. A sickening crunch. My chest caved in.

I gasped, clutching my chest, the world spinning. My ribs, I knew, were broken. I tasted blood and dirt.

"You demon!" my father screamed, his voice shaking with a rage I had never heard. He shielded Casey, his body trembling with fury. "You kicked my daughter! You attacked my grandchild! You're dead to us, Eva! Dead!"

My mother, her face pale, echoed his words. "Casey is our daughter now. Our good daughter. You… you are nothing."

Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn't make a sound. My throat was raw. My body felt like a broken doll. My father, the kind, gentle man who once taught me how to swim, had just broken my ribs for a lie. For a stranger.

My vision blurred. Dead to us. The words echoed in my head, a final, crushing blow.