Chapter 2

The fire trucks arrived ten minutes later.

By the time the firefighters pried through the rubble with hydraulic cutters and dragged Arthur out, he had already gone into shock.

His legs were a mangled mess of flesh and blood, giving off a sickening stench of charred meat.

Sienna, cradled in his arms, had only inhaled a bit of smoke and suffered a few minor scrapes.

Wrapped in a blanket by the paramedics, I sat beside the ambulance, watching them lift Arthur onto a stretcher.

"Ma'am, your husband was incredibly brave," one firefighter said, looking at me with sympathy. "His injuries are severe, but thank God, he'll live."

"Yes." I lowered my head, covering my face with my hands, my shoulders shaking violently.

The hospital reeked of disinfectant, so strong it turned my stomach.

"Camille! What exactly happened to my son? How could the cellar catch fire out of nowhere?"

Arthur's mother, Mrs. Bennett, came storming over in her high heels, her fury palpable.

Trailing behind her was Mr. Bennett, his face equally clouded with anger.

These two leeches, who had been living off the profits of my family's winery, cared about nothing but their own son.

"The doctor said Arthur's legs suffered comminuted fractures along with third-degree burns. If the infection can't be controlled, amputation may be necessary." I lifted my head, my voice hoarse.

"Amputation?! Good God!" Mrs. Bennett shrieked, grabbing my shoulders. "Why didn't you pull him back? You're his wife—how could you let him get hurt like this?"

I didn't argue back. Instead, I spoke in a voice weak enough to sound genuine, yet loud enough for the nearby nurses to hear clearly: "Because when the fire broke out, Arthur shook off my hand to save Sienna. I tried to pull him back, but he told me to get lost."

The hallway fell instantly silent. A few passing medical staff turned to look our way.

Mrs. Bennett's face flushed red, then went pale. Her mouth opened, but no words came out for a long moment.

"Mrs. Bennett…" a soft, timid voice called out from nearby.

Sienna stood there in her hospital gown, a bandage taped to her forehead.

She had only suffered mild smoke inhalation—her hair wasn't even out of place.

The moment Mrs. Bennett saw her, the anger on her face vanished completely. She rushed forward and pulled Sienna into her arms. "You poor thing, you must have been terrified! Let me see, where are you hurt?"

Sienna nestled into Mrs. Bennett's embrace, glancing at me timidly before quickly lowering her head.

Mrs. Bennett turned and shot me a venomous glare. "Thank God Sienna's alright, or I don't know what I would have done."

I watched this farce unfold with cold detachment.

In my past life, Arthur had come out unscathed, and the Bennetts had treated Sienna like a treasure, while accusing me of deserving my own death.

Three days later, Arthur finally woke from his coma.

His legs, wrapped in thick bandages, hung suspended in the air. The slightest movement sent him breaking out in a cold sweat from the pain.

I sat by his bedside, quietly peeling an apple.

"Sienna… where's Sienna?" The first words out of his mouth weren't about his own injuries, nor were they for me—he was searching for his moonlight.

I pressed the call button by the bed. "Sienna's in the next room. I'll have her brought over now."

Ten minutes later, Sienna was wheeled in on a wheelchair.

Arthur's eyes lit up instantly. "Sienna, are you alright? I was so scared…"

"I'm fine, Arthur." Sienna forced a smile.

But before she could finish speaking, she suddenly frowned, gripping the armrest of the wheelchair, her face turning pale. "My head's spinning… I feel a little sick."

Arthur's expression darkened instantly. He shot me an anxious look.

"Camille, didn't you say she only had a few scrapes? Why is she like this now? This is all your fault—if you'd reacted sooner and saved us, she wouldn't be hurt like this!"

I looked down at the half-peeled apple in my hand, my tone calm. "I called 911. The fire department got there in ten minutes. I'm not a psychic—how was I supposed to know that wall would collapse?"

"Sienna, come here, let me see where you're hurt."

As she approached the bed, her eyes landed on Arthur's legs. She instinctively took a step back, covering her nose with her hand.

Arthur's hand froze in midair.

"Why are you backing away?" Arthur's voice turned sharp.

"I… I didn't mean to," Sienna stammered, fumbling with the bandage on her forehead.

"Get out! Just get out for now!"

Once Sienna had left, Arthur grabbed the glass of water beside him and hurled it at me with all his strength.

"This is all your fault."

The glass shattered at my feet, splashing water all over me.