“Leave her! Let her go! She dared to hurt Sister Arabelle; breaking her legs would be doing her a favor.”
“Young Master Jaxon, don’t worry. She’ll be back, crying within three days.”
But as I stepped into the sunlight, the world ahead seemed to shimmer. I thought of Callum’s warm smile, and for the first time in a long while, my eyes filled with hope.
This time, I didn’t need to look back.
Callum, once I finished this final task, we’d meet again.
The pain from the wounds on my forehead and hand flared up with each step as I left the Aldridge estate. I gritted my teeth, the blood staining my skin, but I didn’t stop. I had to go to the hospital.
The nurse took one look at me, bruised and battered, and then glanced toward a distant, luxurious ward, shaking her head.
“Comparisons will kill you,” she muttered.
Following her gaze, I saw Arabelle had also arrived. The doctor was removing glass shards from her skin. She had gone all out to frame me, willing to sacrifice her own flesh to see me suffer.
Each time the doctor touched her, Arabelle’s soft cries filled the air, and she clung to Jaxon as if they were the only two people in the world. Their affection for each other was sickening to watch.