My body had lost the ability to produce blood. At this rate of loss, I would slip into a coma and die within minutes.
When my consciousness finally scattered into nothing, I felt no sadness.
Only relief. The relief of someone who had finally been set free.
When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in midair.
Not far away was Agatha's room. The hallway outside it was packed with medical staff standing at attention, ready to respond at a moment's notice.
I watched Blake rush through the door, his face tight with worry, and my eyes burned.
Just a few steps away from where he stood, I had died in silence.
He hadn't cared. His heart, his eyes, his every thought belonged to his adoptive sister.
Blake knelt beside the hospital bed, cradling Agatha's face in both hands, his gaze full of anguish.
"Agatha, you're finally awake. You scared me half to death."
"Please, I'm begging you, don't ever do anything like that again."
His voice held a tenderness I had never once been given.
Agatha burst into tears, delicate as rain on pear blossoms.
"I'm fine. I just missed Mom and Dad so much."
The same act as always. The same performance.