Chapter 4
Grace's POV
After the hospital check-up confirmed it was just a minor sprain, Derek insisted on bandaging Bella's ankle himself when they got home.
"Tell me if it hurts," Derek said gently. "I'll be really careful."
"It doesn't hurt," Bella looked at him with a sweet smile. "It doesn't hurt when you take care of me."
Derek's ears turned slightly red: "Don't... don't say that."
"Why not?" Bella's eyes sparkled with mischief. "It's true."
There was a subtle romantic tension in the air.
"You need to be more careful during training from now on," Derek said, his voice slightly unnatural. "I'll re-inspect all the equipment. I can't let you get hurt again."
"Grace really needs to reflect on this," Mom said from the side. "This kind of negligence is dangerous."
"I'm suspending Grace's private training sessions," Derek said seriously. "She needs to understand the importance of responsibility."
Hearing this, I let out a bitter laugh.
"Derek..." Bella hesitated.
"You don't need to defend her," Derek looked at her gently. "You're too kind, Bella."
"Thank you for always protecting me," Bella said softly. "I feel safe when you're here."
Just then, my parents moved to the kitchen corner, speaking in hushed tones.
"Look how much Derek cares about Bella," Mom whispered. "They're really perfect together."
"Derek is definitely a good man," Dad nodded. "But our Bella has unlimited potential. She'll meet even better men in the future."
"That may be true, but Derek's feelings for Bella are obviously special," Mom said thoughtfully. "And Grace... she doesn't deserve such a good man."
I floated in the living room, listening to my parents' undisguised gossip, my heart was completely numb.
They would never imagine that I had already lost the chance forever to fight for myself.
The next evening, the club was about to close.
I floated in the training hall, watching my parents and Marcus clean up the equipment, preparing to go home.
Bella's injury had made them extra nervous. Mom kept muttering about strengthening safety inspections, while Marcus checked every piece of training equipment.
"All the equipment needs to be completely overhauled," Dad said seriously. "We can't have any more accidents."
"Grace was so irresponsible," Mom shook her head. "That negligence almost killed Bella."
Just then, janitor Mrs. Rodriguez ran into the main hall in panic.
"Mr. Sterling!" she called out breathlessly. "Something's wrong!"
Marcus immediately turned around: "What's the matter, Rosa?"
"The lock!" Mrs. Rodriguez pointed toward the back corridor. "The lock on that old equipment room is broken! Someone smashed it!"
Dad frowned: "Smashed? Who would break the lock there?"
"I don't know... I was mopping over there just now and found the door was open," Mrs. Rodriguez said shakily. "Inside... I think I heard something moving inside! I got scared and ran out!"
"Something moving?" Marcus's face changed. "Could it be a burglar?"
Mom said nervously: "Even though it's all old equipment, there are some valuable things in there."
"I'll go check it out right now," Marcus strode toward the corridor. "You guys call the police."
My heart sank. They were finally going to find me.
I followed Marcus toward the abandoned equipment room.
The closer we got to that door, the stronger the foul smell became.
Marcus wrinkled his nose and covered it with his hand: "What's that awful smell?"
He pushed open the partially closed door, and a nauseating stench of decay immediately rushed out.
"Jesus..." Marcus gagged and staggered backward.
The abandoned equipment room was pitch black; the overhead light had been broken for ages. Marcus pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight.
The weak beam of light swayed in the darkness, illuminating the corner of the room.
Broken equipment, dust-covered boxes, and...
"What is that?" Marcus pointed his phone's light toward the floor.
Something was lying there on the ground, mostly hidden in shadow.
Marcus carefully approached, his phone's light slowly illuminating the floor.
The first thing that came into view was a pool of dried, blackened blood covering the concrete floor in large patches.
"Blood?" Marcus's voice began to tremble. "How could there be so much blood?"
He continued forward, his phone's beam trembling as it moved toward the center of the blood pool.
A pale arm was visible, covered in scratches and bruises.
Marcus gasped and barely dared to look further. But he still shakily moved the light beam upward.
Torn clothes, a twisted body, and...
"No... this can't be..."
When the phone's light hit my face, Marcus nearly dropped his phone.
It was me.
