Chapter 3

When Ainsley woke again, she thought she was in heaven.

There was no pain anywhere in her body. She lay wrapped in soft blankets, as if she'd been born anew.

But then she noticed the IV drip in her hand. She reached up and touched her neck — a rigid cervical collar held her in place.

"You're awake?"

A nurse walked over, her tone flat and mechanical. "Your throat is damaged. You won't be able to speak for a while."

Ainsley's eyes went wide. Then she smiled — silently.

Elijah had saved her again. Was this his plan? Keep her alive so he could torment her forever?

Fine. If taking all his fury meant the Hopper family would be spared, she'd accept it willingly.

She just worried about her mother. Joelle Astor had no idea what she'd been through. She must be worried sick.

As if summoned by the thought, Elijah appeared in her line of sight.

He stood at the foot of the bed in another impeccable suit — not a single crease — radiating cold elegance.

"Can she eat?" he asked.

"She should be able to, but swallowing will be very painful," the nurse replied.

Ainsley listened to them discuss her condition as if she weren't there. It felt surreal.

Had Elijah had a change of heart? Had he discovered Sabrina had framed her? Was he going to let her heal?

But the moment her baby died, forgiveness became impossible.

She'd rather die sooner.

So when a bowl of warm soup was placed in front of her, she turned her head away, pressed her lips shut, every fiber of her body screaming refusal.

"What, you want me to spoon-feed you?"

Elijah's laugh was cutting.

"If she won't eat, put in an NG tube and force it down."

"Add extra nutrients to the drip. She's too thin."

Ainsley turned to look at him, unable to understand what he was after.

She was already half-dead from his cruelty. Was he fattening her up so she could endure more of it?

"Elijah, don't give Ainsley a feeding tube. That's too painful."

Sabrina appeared again.

Her smile was sweet, as though she genuinely cared. "Let me feed her. I'm sure she'll get better."

"Oh — should we take Ainsley to see her mother? She probably already knows. That's why she won't eat, right?"

Knows what? Ainsley opened her mouth, desperate to ask, but no sound came out.

Elijah gave a short nod and instructed the nurse to lift Ainsley off the bed and into a wheelchair.

She was wheeled out of the room and into an elevator.

She didn't believe they'd be kind enough to let her see Joelle.

But if she really did — her mother would believe her. Her mother would find a way to save her.

Unless... her mother was under their control too?

Ainsley waited, heart pounding, as the elevator descended. Past the lobby. Past the first basement level.

Down to B2.

A terrible premonition gripped her.

At the end of the corridor stood a heavy metal door. The morgue.

The nurse wheeled Ainsley inside and stopped beside a gurney. Then, with one swift motion, pulled back the white sheet.

"Ainsley, I'm so sorry. Ms. Astor would have wanted you to take care of yourself."

Sabrina's voice was heavy with sorrow.

Ainsley froze.

She couldn't hear anything. Nothing but the roar of blood rushing through her veins.

Her mother was dead.

On the gurney, Joelle's face was ashen. Her eyes were half-closed. She didn't look like she'd gone peacefully.

How could this happen...

It was as if a blade had been plunged into Ainsley's heart and twisted. For a moment, she forgot how to cry.

Sabrina spoke again. "She saw the videos of you online — you with that other man. It triggered a heart attack, and she fell from a building."

Impossible. Joelle didn't have a heart condition.

And she would never have believed those fake videos.

Ainsley struggled out of the wheelchair and reached for Joelle's hand.

Then she saw it — clutched in her mother's curled fingers, a strand of long hair.

Golden. Curly. Identical to Sabrina's.

Sabrina had killed her mother.

Rage ignited inside Ainsley like wildfire. She spun around and lunged for Sabrina's hair, but Elijah seized her wrist and slammed her back into the wheelchair.

"What the hell is wrong with you now?"

He glared at her with pure loathing. "If Sabrina hadn't gone to check on your mother, the body would have rotted before anyone found her! The things you've done — even your own mother couldn't stand the sight of you!"

That wasn't true.

Ainsley forced her mouth open, desperate to speak, but only a hoarse rasp of air escaped.

The anesthesia dulled the physical pain, but her heart felt like it was being shredded. She coughed up a mouthful of blood.

She gave up any hope of avenging Joelle. She just turned around, wanting one last look at her mother.

But Elijah ordered the nurse: "Take her back."

"Ainsley, focus on getting well. Get your strength back."

His tone was almost earnest. It sent a chill down her spine.

"You and Sabrina are a match. Once you've fully recovered, you'll donate your kidney to her."

"She'll finally be able to have children. You're the one who made her sick in the first place. Giving her your kidney is the least you owe her."

Ainsley's head snapped up. She stared at Elijah in disbelief.

So she was to be kept alive like livestock — fattened up, then carved open to give her organs to someone else.

That was the only reason he wanted her alive.

"Elijah..." The sound she forced out was raw and terrible. "You'll pay for this."

"Sabrina, do you actually dare use my kidney? Aren't you afraid my ghost will haunt you?"

At her bedside, Sabrina leaned down and tucked the blanket around her.

"Ainsley, what are you talking about?"

She brought her lips close to Ainsley's ear, whispering with a soft laugh. "I'm not even sick. Why would I actually use your kidney?"

"Your kidney will be fed to the dogs."

"You were useless alive. Dead, you're even less worth worrying about."

Sabrina straightened up, smiled gracefully, and raised her voice. "Ainsley, thank you. Get some rest. I'll come visit you every day."

Then she walked out with Elijah.

The door clicked shut.

Only then did the tears come — flooding down Ainsley's face like a dam had broken.

She couldn't make a sound, but her entire body shook with silent sobs.

Her baby was dead. Her mother had been murdered. She was imprisoned here, awaiting endless humiliation, and ultimately — death.

She couldn't let them win.

The door and windows of the room were locked tight. She thought for a moment, then crawled off the bed. Inch by inch, she pushed the heavy hospital bed toward the door until it wedged against it, blocking it shut.

Then she picked up the oxygen tank and swung it at the window.

Once. Twice. The crashing sound brought the nurses running. They tried to force their way in but couldn't push the door open.

Finally — a shattering explosion of glass. Cold wind howled through the opening.

Ainsley didn't hesitate. She climbed onto the windowsill and threw herself out.

Eight stories down.