Chapter 7

Curled on the tile, shaking like a fever dream, veins bulging in my forehead—I bashed my skull against the floor, clang after sickening clang.

Joseph... he really wanted me gone. For good.

Black swallowed me whole this time, a long, dreamless drop.

When I surfaced? Itch and ache everywhere, but my chest—oh, that was a bonfire, sweat beading cold.

I twitched to sit—nurse dove in, pinning me, eyes bugging. "Whoa, easy! You just came out of a ticker swap—can't thrash yet!"

My skull exploded. "What?!"

"Heart graft, hon. Didn't you sign off on donating yours to that Zoe she-wolf?"

Blank. Buzzing static in my head, like a hive on fire.

Slow, I reached for my chest, fingers trembling.

Nurse swatted me gentle. "Nuh-uh—fresh pump in there, all synthetic. Got a list of do's and don'ts a mile long. But hey, spill: what's the deal with you and Zoe? Handing over your ticker like it's no biggie?"

Rage and terror crashed over me, a tidal wave.

I quaked, splintering at the edges.

Joseph... how could he? That monster!

The monitor shrieked—nurse bolted, yelling for backup.

Half a day later, they wheeled me back under the knife for round two.

When lids fluttered open? Zoe perched by my bed, all doe-eyed sorrow, like Dolly's ghost still nipped at her heels. "Gina, Joseph filled me in—you donated your heart to make up for what you did to poor Dolly."

Her voice hitched, thick. "I'm grateful, truly. But I can't shake how you hurt her. Guess my enlightenment's still green... or maybe you're just bad juju, tainting Joseph, now me. Do some good deeds, huh? This charm's blessed—calms the wild soul. Call it my thanks."

Weak as watered-down brew, I glared—pure venom, loathing boiling.

A corner of the charm pouch gaped, teasing.

I peeked—and my face went milk-pale. Hand flew up to chuck it.

Zoe's mask slipped for a split—too late. My flail caught her, sending her forehead cracking into the bedstand corner, blood welling crimson.

"Zoe!" Joseph's roar shook the door as he burst in, catching the tail end.

He scooped her up frantic, then wheeled on me—eyes feral, breath ragged, like he'd chew through my throat.

"Gina!" He snarled my name, syllable by syllable, a curse.

But her whimper? He bolted, not a backward glance.

Fists knotted till my palms iced over.

Shaking, I snatched my phone, dialing blind. "Help... I need a favor. Big one."

Midnight hit, and Joseph crashed my room like a blizzard—face carved from ice.

He loomed, wordless, then slapped a stack of pics across my mug.

I scooped 'em up—pupils pinpricks.

My healer mentor. Coworkers. Pals. Their pups, mates—snapped in the crosshairs.

Eyes bulging, I lunged—or tried, body leaden. "What the hell, Joseph! I didn't shove her! Zoe stuffed cat hair in that damn pouch—it's a setup to take me out!"

He scoffed, sharp. "Oh yeah? Zoe's patched up how many strays? Forgives your sorry hide with a blessed charm, and you nearly scar her for life? She set you up? What's her angle—strangers don't knife each other for kicks! You buying your own bull?"