Chapter 3 In the Hospital

He seized her wrist in a vicious grip and twisted hard.

"Ahh—!" Sophia cried out. The fruit knife clattered from her hand, the blade scraping across the floor with a harsh metallic screech.

James shoved her away violently, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He stared at Sophia—looking every bit the madwoman—in disbelief. Rage ignited in his chest.

"Sophia! Have you lost your mind? You actually tried to kill me?!"

Sophia's back slammed into the edge of the desk. She curled inward from the pain but still struggled to her feet.

She locked eyes with him and laughed—a hysterical, piercing sound that seemed to tear through the air.

"Yes, I've lost my mind! My child is dead! You ordered the doctors to 'dispose' of it! My only sister was violated by men you sent, jumped from a roof, and now she's a vegetable! She's only eighteen! James, tell me—give me one good reason why I shouldn't be insane?!"

She screamed, tears finally breaking free, mixing with the blood on her face in a grotesque mask of grief and fury.

"Why are you doing this to me? What did I do wrong? Even if I owed Emily something, you could've taken my life to settle the debt! Why did you go after Clara? You knew she meant more to me than my own life. Tell me!"

Her accusations echoed through the vast office like blade strikes.

James's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly when she mentioned Clara. But hearing her speak of Emily's death so dismissively made fury surge through him again.

He grabbed her by the throat and hauled her up, his voice a guttural snarl. "How dare you even say Emily's name? Have you forgotten how she died? Gang-raped, videotaped, her body left in pieces!

"She was only twenty-two! What did she do wrong? She's dead, so why do you get to keep living? Why did you think you could carry my child?!"

His voice rose higher and higher until he was roaring, years of pent-up hatred finally erupting. "You don't deserve it! None of the Browns deserve to live!"

"Fine! I don't deserve it!" Sophia laughed—a broken, ragged sound—her eyes hollow and wild. "James, if we both think the other doesn't deserve to live, then why don't we die together?"

She lunged at him again. This time she had no weapon—only her teeth, her nails, anything she could use to attack. It was a suicide mission.

"Get off me!" James was startled by her feral desperation. He shoved her hard.

Sophia was already weak, running on nothing but hatred. His furious push sent her body flying backward, completely off balance.

Behind her was the spiral staircase leading down to the secretarial floor.

James's pupils contracted sharply as he watched Sophia tumble down the steep stairs.

Her body struck the hard steps with sickening thuds that made his teeth clench. Each impact brought bone-cracking pain.

The final blow came when her head hit the landing. Something seemed to explode inside her skull. A high-pitched ringing swallowed every other sound.

Excruciating pain radiated from every inch of her skeleton. Warm, sticky liquid pooled at her temple.

Her body lay crumpled on the cold floor like a broken doll, unable to move. She couldn't even curl her fingers.

James stood frozen at the top of the stairs. His shoulder wound was still bleeding, but he couldn't feel it.

After a long moment, he seemed to come back to himself. He raced down the stairs.

He reached her side and crouched down, but didn't dare move her.

Her eyes were closed. Blood and bruises covered her face. Her breathing was so faint he could barely detect it.

"Call an ambulance." He heard his own hoarse voice giving the order. Then he stripped off his blood-soaked jacket and tried to stanch the blood pouring from her head.

The instant his fingers touched her ice-cold skin, an inexplicable panic seized his heart.

The ambulance arrived quickly.

James followed the stretcher into the emergency room. Doctors swarmed around her.

"Patient has severe head trauma, unequal pupils—suspected intracranial hemorrhage!"

"Blood pressure dropping, prep for emergency CT!"

"Page neurosurgery and orthopedics for consult!"

The doctors worked frantically, taking the stretcher from James and rushing Sophia through the doors.

The emergency room doors swung shut. James stood outside in a daze, as if he hadn't quite processed what had just happened.

Blood from his shoulder wound had soaked through half his sleeve.

Fortunately the wound wasn't deep. A nurse bandaged it while his gaze remained fixed on those closed doors.

Isabella rushed over.

Seeing James, she cried out, "James, is it serious?"

James didn't seem to hear her. He just stared at the doors.

Isabella bit her lip and said softly, "Sophia was so reckless. How could she stab you like that? Thank God you reacted quickly, otherwise…"

Before she could finish, James suddenly turned to look at her, his gaze cold. "How did you know she stabbed me?"

Isabella froze, flustered. She looked down and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I—I heard it from the nurses at the hospital. They said Sophia suddenly ran out of her room in terrible condition, so I followed to check on things."

James didn't respond. He turned away from her.

A flash of resentment crossed Isabella's eyes, but she quickly replaced it with a soothing expression. "James, don't blame yourself. Sophia will be fine.

"But she really was in the wrong here. You didn't hold Emily's death against her, and the induced labor was to save her life. No matter how upset she was, she shouldn't have attacked you with a knife!"

James closed his eyes.

The emergency room doors burst open. A nurse hurried out. "The patient needs emergency surgery. Where's the family? We need a signature!"

James took the surgical consent form. His eyes scanned the listed risks: intracranial hematoma removal, possible vegetative state, risk of fatal hemorrhage during surgery…

He drew a breath. His chest felt like it was being crushed by a boulder. Every breath brought pain.

He signed his name quickly.

The nurse grabbed the form and rushed back into the emergency room.

The doors closed again. The red "Surgery in Progress" sign above them glowed like an accusation.

Time crawled by. The hallway was so quiet he could almost hear the wind against the windows.

James stood by the window, watching dawn break outside. But all he could see was Sophia tumbling down those stairs.

He thought, 'Does she really hate me that much? But she killed Emily. She's getting what she deserves—the miscarriage, the fall. Isn't this exactly what I wanted to see? So why does my heart feel like this when I replay that moment? Why this panic?'

After a night of surgery, the chief of neurosurgery emerged and pulled off his mask. "Mr. Smith."

James hurried over, his voice betraying an urgency he hadn't noticed himself. "How is she?"

"The surgery went as well as could be expected. We removed the intracranial hematoma, but the patient sustained severe head trauma. She's still in critical condition. Additionally, she has fractures and cracks in her lumbar vertebrae that will require further treatment."

"When will she wake up?" James asked.

"Hard to say." The doctor was frank. "It depends on how her body responds."

"However, Mr. Smith, the patient's overall condition is extremely poor. She just underwent an induced labor, and now she's suffered this severe trauma. Even if she wakes up, there will likely be serious complications."

James clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "Do whatever it takes. Use the best treatment protocols, the best medications. Money is no object."

"We'll do our best." The doctor nodded and left.

Isabella had stayed with James all night. Watching him show unconscious concern for Sophia made jealousy and hatred churn inside her.

But her face remained a mask of gentle kindness. She stepped forward. "James, you've been here all night. You should rest.

"I'll stay here. If Sophia wakes up, I'll let you know immediately."

James cast one long look toward the ICU, but his voice was cold and mocking. "Why would I care if she wakes up? You think I'm worried about some crazy woman who tried to kill me?"

He turned and walked away.

Isabella smiled as she watched him go. Then the smile faded. She walked to the glass window outside the ICU and looked at Sophia, tubes running from every part of her body. Cold mockery glinted in her eyes.

"Tough to kill, aren't you?" She sneered. "But that's fine. It's more fun to make it last."

Sophia remained unconscious for three full days.

During those three days, she was trapped in an endless, suffocating nightmare she couldn't escape.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. Her vision plummeted from the ceiling to the world before her, her body giving a slight tremor.

The first sensation was pain.

Her head felt like it had been struck with a sledgehammer. Waves of splitting agony rolled through her skull. Her entire body felt like it had been run over by a truck. From the waist down, everything was numb and aching—disconnected from her brain, completely immobile.

Then came the bone-deep terror. It seeped out from under her skin like ice water, crawling up her spine, raising goosebumps along her arms and making every hair stand on end.

She thought, 'I'm still alive? Is this a hospital? I can't move… will I ever move again? Am I going to waste away in this bed? After all, who in this world would take care of me now?'

Just as Sophia sank into that desperate fear, a mocking voice spoke from beside her.

"You woke up already?"

She struggled to move her eyes and saw Isabella sitting by the bed, elegantly peeling an apple. The knife blade flashed cold light in her fingers.

"What a shame. I thought you wouldn't make it this time."

Isabella cut the apple into small pieces, but instead of offering them to Sophia, she speared one with a toothpick and slowly brought it to her own mouth.

"But thinking about it, a quick death isn't nearly as interesting as a slow decline, is it? Lying in bed, unable to live or die—how poetic. Just like that poor sister of yours."

Sophia's eyes widened suddenly, nearly blazing with hatred. She opened her mouth but couldn't make a sound, her throat too dry.

"Want some water?" Isabella lifted a glass but only took a sip herself. "Too bad. The doctor says you can't eat or drink anything yet. You'll just have to suffer."

"Get… out…" Sophia forced out a hoarse whisper.

Isabella laughed. "Still so feisty, even like this.

"Your sister's a vegetable, the baby was ripped from your body, you're half-dead yourself, and James wishes you'd disappear forever.

"Why don't you beg me? Maybe if I'm in a good mood, I'll put you out of your misery."

Sophia stared at her with eyes that could kill.

The monitor suddenly shrieked an alarm.

"Don't get excited." Isabella stepped back. "Don't forget—the person who did all this to you was James."

A nurse rushed in at the sound of the alarm and silenced it.

Seeing Sophia had just woken, she adjusted the IV drip, helped regulate her breathing, and warned her not to get agitated.

Isabella immediately switched to a concerned expression when the nurse entered. "Nurse, Sophia just woke up. She might be uncomfortable. Please take good care of her."

After the nurse left, Isabella dropped the act. She grabbed her purse to leave.

The door opened just then. James walked in.

Isabella's expression transformed instantly. "James, Sophia's awake! I was just about to find you. She looks like she's in pain—she keeps shaking."

James's gaze fell on Sophia.

Her face was deathly pale, her lips cracked and dry. Only her eyes were bright—terrifyingly so—fixed on him with laser focus.

"Leave us." James said to Isabella.

Isabella nodded obediently. As she left, she closed the door behind her, but not before shooting Sophia one last mocking look.

Only the two of them remained in the room.

Sophia managed a bitter smile, her voice raw and rasping. "What, here to see if I'm dead yet?"

James walked to the bedside and looked down at her, his expression complicated. "You're hard to kill, I'll give you that."

Sophia stared at the ceiling, her voice dripping with hatred. "Sorry to disappoint. I didn't die on your stairs."

James's brow furrowed, his tone turning cold. "Sophia, you attacked me with a knife first."

"That's right." Sophia suddenly laughed, the sound scraping through her raw throat. "I just regret I didn't aim better. If I had, you'd be the one lying here right now."

Fury flashed in James's eyes, but seeing her pale face and the bandages wrapped around her head, he forced it down.

"You know what you looked like? A lunatic."

"I am a lunatic!" Sophia's voice was shredded. "James, you and that perfect little actress outside—you pushed me to this point together. Isn't this exactly what you wanted? To watch me go insane?"

"What does Isabella have to do with this? She's been the one taking care of you these past few days, watching over you."

"Oh, how ungrateful of me."

Her voice was on the verge of breaking, her throat rasping harshly.

James's eye twitched. He wanted to give her water, even just to wet her throat, but seeing the hatred in her eyes, he forced himself to hold back.

After a moment, Sophia managed to speak again. "James, do you think I'm an idiot? She cares about me? She wants me dead."