Chapter 3

Zaiden didn't answer right away. The sound of rustling papers came through the phone.

After a moment, he said, "Next month, there's a major competition for the youth division. If you can take first place, I'll agree to let you join the elite training team. I'll also help you apply for an overseas study program—full scholarship. You'll get a recommendation letter from the national team too."

Nayeli gripped her phone tighter, her breathing quickening with excitement.

"I can do it! I'll definitely win!"

"Confidence is good." Zaiden chuckled. "Your performance in the junior division was impressive. Here's what we'll do—tomorrow morning at ten, come to the rink. I want to see if you've gotten rusty over the past three years."

"Okay."

"One more thing," Zaiden's voice turned serious. "Your family situation—can you handle it?"

Nayeli glanced at her closed bedroom door, determination flashing in her eyes.

"Don't worry. From today on, I make my own decisions!"

After hanging up, Nayeli set her phone on the pillow and lay back.

The ceiling light blazed bright and harsh. She closed her eyes.

Tomorrow, everything starts over.

——

City Central Hospital, VIP ward.

Lucia lay in the hospital bed, an IV drip attached to her hand, her face pale as paper.

Miguel sat beside the bed, his eyes full of worry.

Nehemiah stood by the window, hands in his pockets, silent.

"Nehemiah." Miguel suddenly looked up. After a moment's hesitation, he asked, "That video Nayeli showed... do you think it could be real?"

Nehemiah didn't answer.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice slightly hoarse. "Does it matter if it's real or fake?"

Miguel froze.

"What matters is that she shouldn't have humiliated Lucia in front of everyone."

Nehemiah turned around, looking at Lucia in the hospital bed. "Lucia's health has always been fragile. If something happens to her..."

Miguel clenched his jaw and slammed his fist against the bed frame. "This is all Nayeli's fault! She already stole Lucia's identity—what more does she want?"

Nehemiah didn't respond. His mind drifted to that scene from the surveillance footage.

Nayeli's head slamming hard against the ice. Blood spattering.

He thought to himself that once Lucia recovered, he'd find another way to make it up to her.

The next morning, Nayeli woke before dawn.

Thinking about meeting Zaiden today, she'd barely slept all night.

Her knee still throbbed with dull pain. To avoid affecting her performance, she wrapped it tightly with gauze.

After changing clothes, she headed downstairs and ran into Nehemiah and Miguel, just returning from the hospital.

Both had dark circles under their eyes—clearly they hadn't slept.

When Miguel saw Nayeli, he paused, surprise crossing his face.

"You're up this early? Are you going to the hospital to see Lucia?"

Nayeli didn't stop walking. She headed straight downstairs.

Miguel followed, his tone softening slightly. "At least you have some conscience. Lucia hasn't woken up since she fainted last night. The doctor said she was too traumatized. If you sincerely apologize to her, we can put this behind us."

Nehemiah spoke up too, his voice weary. "Nayeli, I'm glad you're taking the initiative to see Lucia. I had the staff make some pancakes. Take them with you, and when you get to the hospital, take good care of her."

Nayeli felt only irritation. Her voice was cold. "I have something else to do today. I don't have time to see her."

Miguel froze, then grew angry. "Nayeli! Do you have any conscience at all? Lucia's in the hospital because of you, and you won't even visit her? Are you even human?"

Nayeli didn't want to waste words on him. She kept walking toward the door.

Miguel's anger boiled over. He strode forward and grabbed her arm.

"Stop right there! You're going to the hospital today whether you like it or not! Not only are you going, but you're going to feed Lucia yourself and apologize to her! You owe her that!"

Nayeli tried to shake him off, but Miguel gripped tighter.

In the struggle, Nayeli lost her footing and pitched forward.

Her knee slammed into the marble steps. The barely healed wound tore open instantly. Blood seeped through the bandage, staining her pants.

Sharp pain shot from her knee through her entire body. Nayeli's lips went white, but she bit down hard and didn't cry out.

Miguel's chest heaved violently. A flash of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by anger.

"You deserve it! If you'd just agreed to go to the hospital, would I have had to do this?"

Nehemiah walked over. Noticing the blood on her knee, his lips moved as if to say something, but in the end he only sighed.

"Nayeli, just go apologize to Lucia at the hospital, and this will all be over. Do you really have to throw the whole family into chaos?"

Nayeli's face was pale. She stared at the blood steadily seeping from her knee and bit down hard.

"Fine. I'll go."

Miguel was stunned—he hadn't expected her sudden agreement.

Nayeli braced herself against the floor and slowly stood up. Her voice was flat. "I'll go see her. Satisfied?"

Miguel snorted. "That's more like it."

Nehemiah looked at Nayeli, his tone carrying a hint of warning. "I hope you're going to apologize sincerely. Don't try pulling any tricks."

Nayeli didn't answer. She turned and limped out the door, her eyes ice-cold.

'Just hold on a little longer.'

Once she won the championship and secured her spot overseas, she'd finally be free.

Nayeli took a cab to the city's largest indoor ice sports center. Zaiden's elite training team had a dedicated practice rink there year-round.

Pushing open the training hall door, cold air rushed over her. The chill from the ice, mixed with the scent of disinfectant, inexplicably put her at ease.

Zaiden stood at the edge of the rink, speaking quietly with a man.

The man wore a black baseball cap and black mask, his face obscured.

But his aura was cold, radiating an intense sense of pressure.

Nayeli's gaze lingered on him for two seconds.

Zaiden noticed her too and gave her a nod.

"You're here? Right on time."

"A friend of mine happened to drop by today to watch. Go warm up first. After you're done, skate a complete free program for me."

Nayeli glanced at the man. He was looking at her too.

Those eyes were deep and cold, the irises a pale gray—like a frozen lake in winter. When they settled on Nayeli, they held a scrutinizing edge.

Nayeli looked away, guessing this person's identity was probably significant.

But she didn't ask.

Past experience had taught her not to ask questions she shouldn't. She was here for one thing only—skating.

After ten minutes of warm-up, her knee sent waves of dull pain through her leg, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through.

The moment her blade touched the ice, Nayeli's heart surged.

It had been years since she'd touched the ice. After being banned from competition, she hadn't even dared watch figure skating competitions.

Now, finally, she was standing here again.

The music was something Zaiden had put on casually—a piece she'd never heard before. The tempo was moderate, perfect for a technical showcase.

Nayeli didn't hesitate. She pushed off.

She started with a back inside triple toe loop. When she landed, her knee flared with pain and she nearly fell, but she forced herself steady with core strength alone.

Then came the spin. She used maximum speed, her blade carving delicate ice crystals across the surface.

Her knee had gone numb with pain. Her chest felt like it was on fire. But she didn't stop.

She still had one move left—a triple axel.

That was the jump she'd trained for three years in her previous life and never landed. It was also an extremely difficult jump that very few female singles skaters could complete.

Nayeli accelerated. Her blade cut sharp sounds across the ice.

Her body spun in the air—one rotation, two, three.

The moment she landed, her blade cut cleanly into the ice.

'She'd done it!'

Nayeli held her finishing position, chest heaving violently.

The next second, her vision went black and her body collapsed forward, unconscious.

In the last second before losing consciousness, she heard the urgent sound of a blade slicing across ice—someone rushing toward her.