Chapter 2

The darkness had a sound.

Beeping. Faint, then louder.

I was lying down. Something was over my face. Oxygen.

My body ached, my throat raw.

I tried to open my eyes.

Hospital.

I could hear voices outside a curtain.

Isabella' s voice, sharp.

"He' s overreacting. He always does."

A man' s voice, a doctor, trying to be calm. "Mrs. Miller, this was a severe anaphylactic reaction. We almost lost him."

"Don' t be ridiculous," Julian' s voice, smooth and mocking. "He probably ate a peanut on purpose to ruin my dinner."

Isabella laughed. A short, ugly sound.

"Just give him something to calm him down and send him home. I have things to do."

The doctor sounded frustrated. "He needs to be monitored. We need to administer the full course of treatment."

"No," Isabella said, her voice like ice. "Don' t do anything aggressive. He' s probably faking half of it. Let him rest. That' s all."

"But Mrs. Miller, your family owns this hospital. Surely you understand the protocols..."

"I understand that I don' t want a fuss," Isabella cut him off. "Do as I say."

Footsteps faded.

My heart felt like a stone.

She was leaving me here. She told them to let me... what? Suffer? Die?

The beeping next to me changed its rhythm. Faster.

I felt a strange lightness, like I was floating.

The pain in my chest was still there, but it was... further away.

I tried to call out her name. No sound came.

I was rising, looking down.

I saw myself on the bed. Pale, struggling for breath.

The machines were frantic.

Then, a brief, sharp pull. I was back in my body.

A jolt.

I could hear a nurse yelling. "Doctor! He' s crashing!"

A different doctor rushed in. "What did Mrs. Miller say about treatment?"

"Minimal intervention, she said he was faking," the nurse replied, her voice tight.

"Minimal? He's dying!" the new doctor shouted. "Get the crash cart! To hell with what she said, I' m not losing a patient because his wife is an idiot!"

Hope. A tiny spark.

Then Isabella was there again, Julian beside her, his arm around her waist.

"What is going on?" she demanded. "I said to let him rest."

"He' s having another severe reaction, Mrs. Miller. He needs immediate, aggressive treatment," the doctor said, his voice urgent.

Isabella looked at me, on the bed. Her eyes were like chips of glass.

"No," she said. "He' s just trying to scare me. He wants me to forget Julian and focus on him. He knows I don' t remember him. He' s a gold-digger, that' s what he is."

Julian smirked. "She' s right, Doc. He' s playing you."

The doctor stared at her, horrified. "He will die."

"Then perhaps he' ll learn his lesson," Isabella said, turning away. "Don' t waste resources on him."

My last bit of strength left me.

The pain was gone.

The beeping turned into one long, steady tone.

Flatline.

I floated up again. Free.

I watched them cover my face with a sheet.

Isabella didn' t even look back. She walked out, laughing with Julian.