Chapter 4 4

The words hit Jane like a physical blow. Her eyes widened in horror. Tears slid silently down her cheeks.

Meredith lunged forward to hit Jane again, but Carson raised a single hand to stop her.

"Don't dirty your hands on garbage, Meredith," Carson said flatly. "I will handle her."

Carson flicked his gaze to the two massive bodyguards standing behind him. They moved instantly.

Each guard grabbed one of Jane's arms. They hauled her off the floor, treating her like a broken ragdoll.

Jane's legs felt like water. She couldn't stand. The guards simply dragged her across the lobby toward the private VIP elevator.

Carson followed. The heavy thud of his shoes against the floor sounded like a countdown to her execution.

Inside the elevator, the enclosed space magnified Carson's suffocating presence. Jane couldn't pull enough oxygen into her lungs.

The elevator dinged at the 17th floor. The doors opened to the Intensive Care Unit. The sharp smell of bleach and antiseptic hit Jane's nose.

The guards dragged her down the long, quiet hallway. They stopped in front of the most heavily guarded room at the end of the corridor.

Through the large, reinforced glass window, Jane saw a woman lying in the bed. She was hooked up to dozens of machines. Her face and arms were covered in thick burn bandages. It was Blaire.

Carson stepped up to the glass. He looked at Blaire's lifeless form. A flash of pain crossed his eyes before hardening into pure venom directed at Jane.

He turned around. He grabbed the front of Jane's dirty coat and lifted her off the ground.

"Prison was too kind to you," Carson sneered, his face inches from hers.

He let go. He shoved her violently against the glass window of the ICU.

Jane's back hit the bulletproof glass with a heavy thud. She slid down the smooth surface and collapsed onto her knees.

Carson pressed the sole of his shoe against her calf, forcing her to stay kneeling.

"Keep your eyes open. Look at what you did," he commanded.

Jane stared at Blaire's ruined body. Five years of guilt and terror broke through her chest. She started sobbing uncontrollably.

She pressed her bloody hands flat against the cold glass. "I'm sorry, Blaire. I'm so sorry," she babbled frantically.

Carson watched her cry. A cruel, mocking smile touched the corner of his mouth.

He leaned down, his breath brushing against her ear like a demon. "If apologies worked, we wouldn't need hell."

He grabbed her hair, forcing her to look at him. "Crocodile tears. You think putting on this pathetic little performance will earn you my pity? It only makes me sick."

"No!" Jane gasped, shaking her head frantically. "I know I was wrong. I'll do anything to pay for it. Anything."

Carson's hand moved from her hair to her jaw. His fingers dug into her skin, squeezing so hard her bones ached.

"You want to atone?" Carson said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "Show me substantial proof."

He pointed a finger at Blaire's bandaged face. "Why does the victim have to look like a monster, while the murderer gets to keep a perfect face?"

The words struck Jane's brain like lightning. She understood exactly what he wanted.

Meredith stepped out of the elevator and heard his words. "Ruin her face!" Meredith spat viciously.

Jane's eyes darted around the hallway. Beside her was a small visitation table. During the struggle a moment ago, a framed photograph of Blaire had been knocked over. The glass over the smiling picture was shattered.

Jane did not hesitate.

She crawled forward on her knees. Her trembling fingers reached out and picked up the largest, sharpest shard of broken glass.

The jagged edge immediately sliced into her thumb, but she felt nothing.

She turned her head and looked up at Carson. Her eyes held no anger. Only a dead, empty calmness.

Before anyone could react, Jane raised the shard of glass and dragged it violently across her own left cheek.