As she escaped, I looked at Adrian, a tiny ember of hope flickering in my chest. But when he turned toward me, there was no warmth in his eyes—only cold disdain. He extended his hand, but reluctantly, as if the very thought of touching me repulsed him.
At that moment, memories of the day I was brought back to the Monticello family flooded my mind. That same look of disgust had been in his eyes when he sneered at me for growing up in the countryside. Despite sharing the same blood, Adrian had always made it clear—I was unworthy to be his sister.
Tears blurred my vision as I grabbed his hand, clinging to him with what little strength I had left, desperate to survive. But my grip must have been too tight because I accidentally pulled him down into the mud with me. Adrian stumbled, his body now covered in the yellow sludge, and Madilyn rushed to help him up.
“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled, his voice laced with fury.
“Brother, we need to call for the rescue team. If we stay here any longer, we’ll die too!” Madilyn urged, her voice tight with fear.
Adrian nodded, brushing the mud from his clothes. He turned to me, his expression cold and detached.