Throwing her head backward, Louisa soaked the wall of her cheeks, suppressing a psychopathic laugh from escaping her. Her back was to them, her disheveled hair still draped over her face.
"Right. We just got engaged a few hours ago before the entire world. But because I'm unruly, it gave you the audacity to cheat on me instead of ending things cleanly?" she shot back bitterly.
The two of them swallowed hard.
"Fine. Since that's how you feel, I'll end this before our families myself," Louisa declared.
With that, she turned and stormed out of the nauseating sight.
"For what reason?!" Jethro's voice thundered as he jumped from the bed and hurried after her in only his underwear.
"You'll find out before the elders!" she retorted.
"Louisa… please, listen to me." His cold voice from moments ago softened into false pleading.
"What is left to listen to?!" she shot him a him a blazing red gaze. "That you've been sleeping with Jasmine behind my back and got her pregnant while still wanting me tied to you legally?! I refuse!"
"It's not what you think," Jethro said, reaching for her arm.
The moment his fingers brushed her elbow, Louisa slapped his hand away.
"Don't you dare touch me! Not with those filthy hands of yours ever again!"
With the sheet still clinging to her chest, Jasmine also rushed after Louisa as she emerged from the bedroom.
"Louisa, please don't tell anyone. I don't want to be doomed like you!" Jasmine cried. But Louisa was already marching down the stairs, determined.
Frustrated that she refused to listen, Jethro lunged forward and grabbed her wrist again, intending to stop her. The instant Louisa felt his grip, she instinctively yanked herself free.
And her foot tripped. Her hand flailed helplessly in the air, desperately searching for something to hold.
For one fleeting second, hope flickered in her eyes when Jethro caught her hand. But then she saw it— a dark flicker crossing his face.
And the moment he deliberately loosened his grip.
Louisa slipped finally. Her body rolled down the glossy staircase like a broken doll before collapsing at the foot of the stairs. Her head struck the hard floor, blood slowly spreading from the side as her devastated gaze fixated on Jethro and Jasmine staring down at her in raw terror.
Inside, she waited for them to help.
But neither moved.
She tried to move her body or at least her hand. Nothing happened except a horrifying numbness spread through her limbs.
Jasmine quickly turned away from the bleeding Louisa, clutching the sheet tighter around herself until her knuckles turned white.
Swallowing hard, Jethro grabbed Jasmine's hand and dragged her with him as they hurried down the stairs.
"Let's leave before anyone sees us here," he said urgently.
"But…" Jasmine's voice trembled as she cast one last glance at Louisa.
Just as they took a few hurried steps, they froze at the sound of footsteps approaching from outside. Petrified, Jethro dragged Jasmine back into the bedroom and shut the door quietly just before the front door swung open.
"I forgot my purse here," Madison muttered, recalling how Carlos had dragged her away earlier without a second thought. "Oh, my poor Louisa. How am I going to reach her when Carlos has restricted me?"
As she stepped deeper into the living room, Madison let out a piercing scream. Her whole body shook.
"Ahhhh! A dead person!"
She spun around in panic, only to freeze when she caught a glimpse of the familiar figure.
Her eyes almost bulged out in horror.
"Louisa!"
She ran forward and dropped to her knees, scooping Louisa into her arms. "Oh dear! What happened to you? Talk to me!"
Seeing her daughter motionless, another scream tore from her throat as she called for help.
"Henry! Over here! Louisa is hurt!"
~•~•~
One month later.
After being confined to an exhausting hospital bed, Louisa finally woke from her coma. She was still dressed in a patient gown, sitting in a wheelchair connected to an IV drip, staring absentmindedly at the patients moving through the hospital courtyard.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a doctor in a white coat stepped inside. Beside him was a young woman dressed in a white double-breasted blazer, her long blonde hair flowing freely down her shoulders.
"Hi, Louisa," the doctor said warmly as he walked up to her, but she didn't bother to look up. Neither did she say a word as she silently listened.
The doctor stopped beside her and opened the file in his hands.
"I'm here with the results from your earlier examination. Since your guardian won't be coming in again, I thought it would be best to discuss them with you directly."
"And what does it say?" she asked hollowly. "That I'm going to be crippled forever? That there's no hope for me?"
The doctor paused, then glanced at the young woman before choosing his words carefully.
"I want to be honest with you. Your fall caused severe trauma to your lower limbs and significant injury to your spinal cord. At this stage, the chances of fully regaining your mobility are quite low—around twenty percent. But it's not impossible. Recovery depends on how your body responds to treatment and rehabilitation."
His words made Louisa's heart ache.
Her fingers clenched around the wheelchair's armrest as she glared at her fragile legs.
"I don't believe that," she countered weakly.
The doctor sighed in understanding. "Unless you pray for a miracle to happen."
"A miracle? It rarely happens," she whispered, her voice tinged with a shattered will to live as she lowered her head.
"I'm here with a doctor who will help you through your recovery," he said as the young woman stepped forward.
With a warm smile, she spoke in a professional yet gentle voice. "Hi, Louisa. My name is Dr. Winifred Davis, a rehabilitation physician from Central City Hospital."
Winifred extended her hand for a handshake, but Louisa didn't even glance at it.
Instead, Louisa's chest burning with bitterness over her condition.
Understanding the situation,
Winifred slowly withdrew her hand and clutched her purse.
"Cases like yours can still improve over time, especially with consistent therapy," Winifred said thoughtfully, her tone steady with a quiet confidence. "Hope, treatment, and time. But you must not give up on yourself yet."
"How long will I have to live like this?" Louisa muttered bitterly, her eyes that stung with tears glared nonstop at her legs. "Until I regain my mobility? Until I can do the things I love again—attend my modeling schedules, go to business meetings, sit on boards with the dignity and authority I've always had?"
She swallowed hard, memories flashing through her mind—of standing unshaken before others as the respected face of the Asher family's renowned prestige. Even her flawless physique had always been the brand of her identity that earned her so much admirable fans.
Winifred sighed gently. "Don't worry. I'll be here to guide you through everything until you regain your mobility. I'll do everything within my power to help you return to your normal life."
Hearing that reassurance, something unfamiliar tugged inside Louisa. She didn't know whether to trust that confidence or accept her new reality.
Still, she chose not to appear pathetic and desperate.
Something important crossed her mind.
"Have Jasmine and Jethro dropped by?" she murmured, her thoughts drifting back to the incident that day, accompanied by a piercing headache.
To that moment when Jethro had let go of her hand. And Jasmine had turned her back on her—the sister whom she had always protected even though it almost cost her life.
Still, they had chosen to let her die just to protect their secret. The thought of it burned something bitter and dark inside Louisa's heart, which had now grown frozen.
"They only came on the day you were admitted. They looked worried and kept asking if you'd be okay. Since you were newly admitted, it was also suspected that you might lose your memory. Your legs as well."
"I guess they believed that and felt relieved," she scoffed bitterly, still staring into the void.
Then she heard the doctor speak again.
"I don't know if I should call this good news or not," he muttered hesitantly, worried about her reaction.
"What news again? You can leave if it's something bad," she said, her mood already sinking.
The doctor paused briefly before revealing, "You're three weeks pregnant."
The words struck Louisa like a physical blow.
Winifred's wide eyes nearly dropped to the floor.
Louisa snapped her head up, finally looking at the doctor in stunned disbelief. She couldn't help but wonder how such an impossible thing had slipped into her life when she had just been furious at those two for the same thing.
"You should take proper care of yourself," he said, checking her IV for the last time.
"Doctor, are you saying the report is mine?" she asked, her lips trembling as a faint will to live slowly returned.
"Yes. We were able to stop your bleeding quickly, and since the fetus hadn't developed much yet, it wasn't harmed."
Louisa's hands instinctively rested on her lower abdomen. "Please, keep this a secret. My pregnancy and every report you give to the Ashers must remain the same—that I can never walk and that I lost my memory."
The doctor nodded. "As you wish. I'll keep it confidential."
With that, the doctor excused himself, leaving Winifred alone with Louisa.
"Do you still want to give it a try?" Winifred pressed softly, noticing the flicker of fierce determination that had crossed Louisa's face. It replaced the doubt and hesitation from earlier.
With a faint smile, Louisa looked up at her. "You mean, working on this miracle? To reclaim my life back and protect my unborn child while making those who hurt me repay a hundredfold?"
Winifred's lips parted slightly as she almost swallowed hard at the dangerous glint in Louisa's dark eyes.
Forcing a neutral expression, Winifred nodded. "That's a great idea if it'll be your motivation. Since I'm here to sort out the schedule, when are we starting?"
"Now," Louisa declared.
"Okay. Let's get started now." Winifred moved behind her, holding onto the wheelchair handle. "I'll bring you to my rehabilitation center then."
With that, Winifred turned Louisa around, wheeling her toward the exit.