Chapter 2

The hospital room was white and sterile, a stark contrast to the chaos in my mind. Caleb sat by my bedside, holding my uninjured arm, his face a perfect picture of grief for the reporters he occasionally allowed in.

But when we were alone, the truth came out. He would take calls, stepping just outside the door, his voice a low murmur. He thought the heavy sedatives kept me in a fog. He was wrong.

I lay perfectly still, my eyes closed, and listened.

"Molly, baby, it's done," I heard him whisper into his phone one afternoon. "She won't be a problem anymore. The board is already questioning her stability."

There was a pause. I could imagine Molly's soft, cloying voice on the other end.

"The COO position? It's yours, I promise. We just have to play this right. We'll announce it after she's 'recovered.' I'll give her some pathetic, symbolic title. Head of Philanthropy, or something. It will make me look compassionate."

He laughed, a low, cruel sound. "Her hands... the doctors say the nerve damage is severe. She'll never be able to work on an interface again. She's finished."

Rage, cold and pure, burned through the haze of medication. He wasn't just taking my job. He was taking my life's work, my passion, the very thing that defined me. He was breaking me, piece by piece, and handing the spoils to his intern.

The next day, Molly visited. She brought a bouquet of lilies, their scent filling the room and making me sick. She stood at the foot of my bed, her eyes wide with fake sympathy.

"Oh, Gabby, you look so... fragile," she said, her voice dripping with pity. "Caleb has been so worried. We've all been worried."

She glanced at my heavily bandaged hands, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips before she masked it with a look of concern.

"Don't you worry about Aura," she continued, patting my leg through the thin blanket. "Caleb and I are handling everything. You just focus on getting better."

Caleb put his arm around her, pulling her close. "Molly's been a lifesaver. A real natural."

They stood there, a united front, already living in the future they had stolen from me. They saw a broken victim. They had no idea they were looking at a woman who was mentally drafting their ruin. Every condescending word, every fake tear, was fuel.

I kept my eyes closed. I let them think I was defeated. Despair was a luxury I couldn't afford. All I had was the burning, patient fire of revenge.