Chapter 7

Tracy was unconscious for three full days. When she finally woke up, the first thing she saw was the fury in Sebastian's eyes. There was no warmth and no apology. He went straight to the point. "Why did you drug Whit's water?" A look of sheer absurdity crossed Tracy's face. Her voice was hoarse as she said, "Sebastian, I just woke up." How could someone who had been unconscious for three days drug anyone? Sebastian fell silent. Perhaps even he felt the accusation was too flimsy. However, the silence lasted only two seconds before he spoke again. "Either way, Whit had another episode. She said you put something in her water. Tracy, I've known Whit since she was little. She wouldn't lie to me." Just like that, because Sebastian believed that Whitney wouldn't lie to him, Tracy was sent to prison before her injuries had even healed. Standing before the police, Sebastian spoke with righteous impartiality, listing Tracy's supposed crimes as if she were a stranger. "The fire at the hospital wasn't started by Whitney. It was Tracy. She deliberately drugged Whit's water and triggered her episode, which led to what happened. "Precisely because she's my wife, I have even less reason to deceive you. In fact, she and Whit have never gotten along. There may have been… an element of revenge." Tracy suddenly laughed. Her laughter grew so loud that it made the officers present turn to look at her in surprise. When she finally stopped, she turned her head and looked at Sebastian. What filled her eyes was biting sarcasm and utter disappointment. "Sebastian, if you wanted me to take the fall, you didn't have to make it this complicated. After all, you know it as well as I do. I have nothing and no one to rely on. I can never escape you, right?" Sebastian froze. For once, he stumbled over his words. "You… I… That phone call… Did you hear everything?" Tracy sneered but didn't answer. She turned and walked straight toward the prison doors. Watching her back recede into the distance, a rare surge of unease rose in Sebastian's chest. He called out to her, "When you get out, I'll come pick you up." She didn't respond. Her figure grew smaller, silent and resolute. The days that followed were, without question, the darkest of Tracy's life. She learned what had really happened that day from the guards. The fire Whitney set during her episode burned down half the hospital. Many patients who were bedridden and unable to flee died on the spot. Several elderly patients with fragile mental states suffered strokes from the shock and never regained consciousness. Every disaster traced back to that single fire. Yet now, Tracy was the one imprisoned for arson. The other inmates didn't care whether she had been wronged. Some of them had family members who had been in that hospital. They came for her without hesitation, their fists and feet raining down on her. On the first day, she was beaten by a group of them. Her injuries had not healed to begin with. When they struck her, the wound on her back split open, and blood soaked through her prison uniform. She was dragged across the ground. Her skin tore and split, bleeding everywhere. On the second day, the bandages over her eyes were ripped off on purpose. They surrounded her, shouting as they beat her, "Murderer! You killed people! All of us combined don't carry half the sins you do! This is what you deserve!" Tracy wanted to defend herself, but every time she opened her mouth, all that came out was a hoarse, shattered scream. It hurt. It hurt too much. She cried nonstop from the pain, but no one pitied a killer. Even the guards only watched in silence. No one stepped in. By the third day, Tracy was numb with despair. She stopped struggling and simply collapsed on the floor, letting their hatred rain down on her in fists and spit. Her wounds split, healed, and split again. Blood pooled beneath her, but she didn't care anymore. She stared blankly at the ceiling, and Sebastian's face surfaced in her mind. Tracy clenched her fists and repeated to herself over and over again that she would make Sebastian pay for this. She swore she would. In just three days, she was tortured until she was little more than skin and bones. Her body was covered in wounds so horrifying that one glance from afar was enough to make someone recoil. When she was released, she was given back her phone. The first call came from her advisor, Serena Potts. "Trace, thank God, I finally got through to you. Your ticket was for two days ago. You should've arrived by now. Why haven't I seen you? Did something happen?" Tracy replied apologetically, "I'm sorry. Something… unexpected came up." There was no reproach from the other end. "It's fine. I've already sent Matthew to pick you up. You'll see him soon. I'll feel more at ease if both of you come back together." The second call was from Sebastian. His voice was cold as he said, "Trace, I'm putting Whit to sleep right now. Since you're out, take a cab home yourself. Oh, and I brought Whit back to the Halston residence. She doesn't have anywhere else to stay, so I gave her your room. When you come back, keep it down. Don't wake her up." He hung up before Tracy could respond. After the two phone calls, it was obvious who truly cared about her. Tracy laughed again. She laughed at her own stupidity for trusting the wrong person for two whole years. Only now could she break free from the sea of suffering. She murmured softly to herself, "Sebastian, how can I leave without thanking you properly?" … That night, a massive fire broke out at the Halston residence. The flames were so fierce that they lit up half the night sky of Jandsville. Tracy casually tossed aside the last torch and calmly walked among the panicked crowd fleeing for their lives. At a spot elsewhere, a helicopter gradually landed beside her. Matthew leaned against the open cabin door with his arms crossed, admiring the blaze below. "Trace, it's been two years. Looks like you're just as ruthless." Tracy didn't respond. She turned back and took one last look at the Halston residence, where she had lived for two years. There was not a trace of attachment in her eyes. She thought to herself, "Sebastian, this is only the beginning. This is just the first gift I'm giving you."