Chapter 6 She Wants to Kill Serenity!

Sophia braced herself against the wall, making her slow way down the hospital corridor toward the VIP wing on the top floor of the other building.

James followed close behind, pushing a wheelchair. He had tried to get her to sit.

But Sophia had given him a cold look and asked, "If your mother sees me in a wheelchair and asks why, what am I supposed to tell her?"

James didn't appreciate the edge in her voice. "Suit yourself," he said flatly.

His phone rang. As he answered, his expression shifted through several emotions. "Fine. I understand," he said into the receiver, his tone clipped.

He looked up at Sophia. "Go ahead. I'll be there shortly."

Sophia had no desire to walk with him anyway.

Serenity's room was far quieter than Sophia's. Thick carpet muffled footsteps in the hallway. The air carried not the sting of disinfectant but the faint scent of jasmine.

Sophia's timing was unfortunate—when she pushed open the door, Serenity had just been given her medication and had drifted back to sleep.

The elderly woman lay in the bed, her hair silver-white, breathing slow and steady. She had lost so much weight. She was nothing like the elegant woman Sophia remembered, with her lustrous hair and bright, warm eyes.

Looking at her now, Sophia couldn't help but recall those early days when she had first been brought to the Smith Mansion—all those moments of unexpected kindness.

She remembered being held in Serenity's arms, how the woman had turned to embrace Clara too, saying, "Poor children. Your father's gone, but you'll stay with me now. No one will dare hurt you here."

"Sophia, try on this dress. Doesn't it look beautiful? You're like a little princess."

"James, you're older than Sophia. You need to look after her at school, understand?"

"Sophia, don't be afraid. If anyone hurts you, tell me. I'll make it right."

The memories came flooding back, and Sophia's throat tightened. Tears slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them.

"Serenity… when you weren't there, they hurt me. They hurt us both.

"Clara's in the hospital too. The doctors say she'll never wake up."

Her voice was barely a whisper, so quiet that even if Serenity had been awake, she probably wouldn't have heard. But the grief and rage pressing down on Sophia's chest felt like a physical weight, crushing the air from her lungs.

"I hate him… He did this to my sister. He took our baby from us… The baby's arms were no thicker than my fingers. He never even got to open his eyes and see the world. I really… I really hate him.

"I want to kill him! But… but he's your son… I…"

"So what if he's her son?"

The voice shattered the silence like a thunderclap. Compared to Sophia's broken whisper, it was deafening.

Sophia's body went rigid. She wiped away her tears quickly and turned, the moisture in her eyes turning to ice, pain hardening into cold steel.

Isabella walked in carrying a plate of cut fruit, her lips curved in an ambiguous smile. "Don't look at me like that. Serenity just had her medication. You could set off fireworks in here and she wouldn't wake up."

Sophia's voice shot up. "You drugged her?"

"Don't be ridiculous. The doctor prescribed it." Isabella's smile deepened. "How could I do something like that? If anyone would, it'd be you."

Sophia's heart lurched. She moved instinctively to block the bed. "What are you planning? Get out!"

Isabella set the fruit down on the side table and shook her head as if disappointed by Sophia's lack of manners.

"How can you talk to me like that? James has been so busy with work lately. I'm just trying to help him be a good son.

"You're the one who should be resting. You look terrible. Watch you don't let your misfortune rub off on Serenity."

Her tone was gentle, but every word carried a chill.

Sophia stared her down. "Isabella, there's no audience here. Who are you performing for? Other people might not see through you, but I do. Get out. Don't taint this room."

Isabella laughed—a sound full of malice and mockery. She deliberately lowered her voice and leaned closer. "I'm tainting this room? Who's really filthy here?

"Is it your sister Clara, who got herself violated? Or your whore of a mother, born in the gutter where she belonged?"

Something exploded in Sophia's head. Images flashed before her eyes—Clara's pale, injured face, the mangled remains of her baby. She lost control completely and slapped Isabella across the face with everything she had. The blow left her palm tingling and numb.

Isabella's head snapped to the side. But she recovered quickly. Though half her face swelled red almost instantly, her eyes gleamed with vicious satisfaction.

Because Sophia, off-balance from the force of her own blow, stumbled forward—and Isabella seized the moment to lunge for Serenity's oxygen tube.

Sophia's pupils dilated. Her breath stopped. Terror overwhelmed rage. She screamed and threw herself forward, trying to grab Isabella's hand.

But Isabella released the tube and let herself slide sideways off the bed. Sophia couldn't stop her momentum. She pitched forward, her hand reaching out and catching the oxygen tube.

No!

Ignoring the pain in her back, Sophia forced her foot to shift, twisting her body so her hand veered toward the metal cabinet instead.

The cabinet where Isabella had left the fruit knife.

Her palm hit the blade. It sliced deep. Blood poured out.

Isabella hadn't expected that. She froze for a split second, her eyes darting toward the door.

What was taking so long? James should have been here by now.

But Sophia had been pushed past her breaking point. Blood streaming from her hand, seemingly oblivious to the pain, she grabbed the knife and lunged at Isabella.

"I'm going to kill you!"

Isabella's eyes flashed with something cold and calculated. She seized Sophia's wrist and shoved back, forcing the blade toward Serenity instead.

Sophia screamed.

They grappled, the knife swinging dangerously close to Serenity's motionless body. In the chaos, it was impossible to tell who was pushing and who was pulling, whose strength was winning. The blade flashed.

Then it found flesh.

Isabella suddenly shrieked, "Help! Murder! Someone help!"

The door burst open.

James charged in and tore them apart, wrenching the knife away.

"What the hell—"

He stopped mid-sentence. Sophia's palm was slick with blood. Her eyes blazed with a feverish light, but her body swayed like she might collapse at any second. Her face was chalk-white, sweat beading across her forehead.

For a moment, his mind went blank.

His instinct was to catch her, to hold her up, to stop the bleeding.

Isabella bit down hard and shouted, "James, Sophia's lost her mind! She tried to kill Serenity!"

James's half-raised arm froze in midair.