Chapter 4

Inside the hospital room, Natalie watched through the narrow crack of the door, witnessing a scene outside that felt like a blade twisting straight into her heart—over and over again. Every image was like a red-hot dagger, stabbing deep into her heart and twisting again and again. She couldn't take it anymore. She suddenly grabbed a glass from her bedside table and, with all her strength, hurled it viciously at the doorway. The glass shattered against the door frame with a huge crash. Outside, both Ethan and Vivian snapped their heads toward the room. Ethan pushed open the door and walked in. His face showed no emotion at all, as if that gentle man from moments before had only been her illusion. "Woke up? How are you feeling?" His tone was as calm as ever. Vivian came in behind him, holding a silver thermos. Her face was streaked with dried tears, her eyes timid and seeking approval as she looked at Natalie. "Natalie, you're awake—that's good… I—I heard you were hurt, so I asked the kitchen to prepare a nourishing pigeon consommé… I wanted you to get your strength back…" Natalie didn't want to see her at all. All she wanted was for Vivian to leave. But as her gaze slid over the thermos, her heart clenched tight. "That …bird. Where did it come from?" Her voice was thin, vibrating with a sudden, sharp anxiety. Vivian blinked, her expression one of innocent confusion."When I heard you were hurt, I wanted to cook something to help you recover.The market was closed, and I couldn't find any fresh poultry. But then I saw that beautiful white dove in the garden coop... I had the servants catch it. I thought a high-quality squab would be the best tonic for you..." The garden pigeon... Natalie had raised that fantail pigeon for ten years—it was the last birthday gift her mother had given her before she died. That pet bird had accompanied her through countless lonely days and nights, her mother’s final gift. In an instant, Natalie’s rage shot up, consuming every last shred of her reason. "Vivian Grant!" Natalie forced herself upright, ignoring the agony in her wounded back. Her eyes went ice cold. "Did you know that was my Snowball?" Vivian shrank back, tears instantly filling her eyes. Her lips trembled as she nearly burst into sobs. "I… I didn't know, Natalie. I swear, I never meant to hurt you… I just wanted to do something nice…" "Enough," Ethan stepped forward, shielding Vivian behind him. He frowned at Natalie, his tone heavy with disapproval. "Natalie, it's just a bird. Vivian meant well, and you don't have to accept her kindness, but that's no reason to lose your temper like this." Just a bird?! Natalie stared at how easily Ethan protected Vivian, listened to his dismissive words. Her heart shattered. She could hardly breathe from the pain. He could only see Vivian's kindness and tears, not Natalie's heartbreak or her grief over losing something that truly mattered. "Ethan Fletcher!" Her voice was raw and cracked, despair leaking through her anger. "That wasn’t just a bird! My mother left it for me. It stayed with me for ten years. In my heart, it’s more important than either of you!" Pain and rage crashed together inside her, sweeping away all reason. Without thinking, she grabbed the steaming bowl of soup from the table and hurled it at Ethan. "Ah—!" Vivian, standing behind Ethan, gasped and—without thinking—stepped forward to block him. The scalding soup splashed down all over Vivian. "Vivian!" Ethan’s face went cold with shock. He caught her as she cried out in pain, his eyes now frigid with anger. "Natalie! Are you insane?!" The room descended into chaos. Ethan quickly called for his private doctor. After the doctor examined her, his expression turned grave as he spoke to Ethan. "Mr. Fletcher, Ms. Grant has a large area of burns, and they're deep… There may be permanent scars in the future." "Scars?" Vivian’s sobs turned to real terror. Her whole body shook as she clung to Ethan, voice desperate and broken. "No… I don't want scars… Ethan, what do I do…?" The doctor hesitated. "If you want to avoid scarring, there’s only one solution—skin grafting. But it's very difficult to find a suitable, high-quality donor in such a short time…" Vivian's sobs died down, her teary gaze drifting—hesitant and scared—toward Natalie’s pale face on the hospital bed. Ethan noticed, and his eyes fell on Natalie as well. He was quiet for a moment, those deep eyes unreadable. "Use Natalie's." "You were the one who caused the injury; it’s only fitting that you pay the debt. It’s a small patch of skin—hardly a sacrifice. I'll compensate you later." Make it up to her?! Natalie felt cold sweep through her, head to toe, leaving her shivering in shock and disbelief. "Get out! All of you, get out!" She jabbed a finger toward the door, her voice breaking with fury and pain. "You want me to give her a skin graft? Over my dead body!" Ethan’s brow creased, his voice dropping. "Natalie, stop being so stubborn." "Stubborn?" She almost laughed out loud, tears spilling from her eyes. "Ethan Fletcher, do my feelings, my pain, the things that matter to me, mean nothing to you? Am I just something you can throw away whenever you want?!" She tried to climb off the bed. "You're not leaving? Fine, I'll go!" But the moment she moved, Ethan grabbed her wrist and pinned her down. "Enough." His gaze was icy, completely in control. "Doctor, bring the sedative." "Ethan Fletcher! Don't you dare!" Natalie fought him, her screams echoing through the room, but she couldn't match his strength. The bright, lively fire in her eyes was gone, replaced by nothing but shattered hope and bitter hatred. When Ethan met that look in her eyes, something sharp twisted in his heart. A strange panic flickered inside him, so out of place it left him unsettled. Almost without thinking, he lifted his other hand and gently covered her eyes, as if that would shield him from the pain and hatred he saw there. His voice was lower, softer than he realized, as if he wanted to soothe her. "Just relax… it’ll be over soon." The icy tip of the needle pierced her skin. Natalie's last sensation was the world going dark—a chill, endless and overwhelming, swallowing her whole.