Chapter 7

I didn't answer him.

There was nothing I could say. I had forgotten that version of myself—the desperate, obedient Adeline who had loved Nathaniel so deeply that she had tried every possible way to make him love her back. I no longer remembered the nights she had cried herself to sleep, quietly begging for a glance, a kind word, or even the smallest smile. The love she had carried for him had once consumed her entire life, until it had become something poisonous.

Now, all that remained was silence.

Perhaps Grandpa's call was the only reason Nathaniel stayed at the hospital at all. He seemed determined to fulfill his grandfather's request to “take care” of me, though the phrase was almost laughable.

He didn't notice when blood began flowing backward through my IV. When I accidentally scalded my hand while bathing, his reaction was barely more than a glance. Even when I pressed the call button while struggling to breathe, his first concern was directed toward his assistant.

“Has Camille's burn been treated yet? If it has, send her the best scar ointment we can find.”

That was the kind of care Nathaniel gave me.

Even though I no longer loved him, something heavy still settled over my chest whenever I witnessed it. I couldn't help wondering how the Adeline from before had survived six years of this. How had she continued waking up every morning, loving a man who gave her nothing, only to spend another night hoping that tomorrow might be different?

She had given him everything she had.

He had given her nothing in return.

Outside the hospital window, leaves drifted lazily through the afternoon air.

I suddenly remembered the final sentence in my diary:

If the day ever comes when I stop loving you, it will be because my heart has already died.

Looking back now, I understood what those words really meant.

The Adeline who had written them had probably disappeared long ago, little by little, across countless nights when Nathaniel ignored her, rejected her, and left her alone with the hope that he might eventually care.

By the time I lost my memories, perhaps there wasn't much of her left to lose.

When the day of my discharge arrived, the ward was completely empty.

I wasn't surprised.

Nathaniel had gone to see Camille again.

During the six years of our marriage, I could probably count on one hand the number of days he had willingly stayed beside me. I no longer expected him to suddenly change, so I simply kept to myself and waited for the immigration paperwork to be completed.

While I waited, Camille's Instagram stories kept appearing on my feed.

She was traveling through some private island resort, posting photographs of breathtaking sunsets at the Bay Hotel. Nathaniel appeared in almost every picture.

He smiled at her with a warmth I had once spent years dreaming of receiving.

In one of the latest photos, they stood at the foot of a snow-covered mountain. Nathaniel was carefully wrapping a scarf around Camille's neck, his long fingers adjusting the fabric while his eyes rested on her with unmistakable tenderness.

Camille leaned against him, laughing as though she had never known a day of unhappiness.

The caption read:

He promised to show me the world.

I scrolled past it without feeling the urge to cry.

They looked like strangers.

For a moment, however, I wondered whether I had ever looked at Nathaniel the way Camille looked at him. More importantly, had he ever looked at me with even a fraction of that same warmth?

I couldn't remember.

Maybe that was a blessing.

**

Three days later, the immigration office finally contacted me.

My passport and visa were ready.

I went directly to the law firm afterward and collected the divorce agreement along with the legal documents ending my relationship with the Prescott family.

Everything I needed to leave was finally in my possession.

I folded the documents carefully, placed them deep inside my bag, and zipped my jacket closed.

For the first time since waking up without my memories, I felt as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

Then my phone vibrated.

Camille.

I opened the message.

Can we talk, sister?

I replied, About what?

Her response came quickly.

You've been Mrs. Sterling for six years. Don't you think it's time you gave the title back to me?

A cold smile touched my lips.

You already have it.

I put my phone away and continued walking.

I didn't bother looking back.

When I arrived at the villa, I pushed open the front door, only to notice that the motion-sensor light hadn't switched on.

I frowned and reached toward the wall for the light switch.

Before my fingers could find it, something struck the back of my head.

Pain exploded through my skull.

I vaguely heard Camille speaking to someone nearby, but the voices quickly became distant.

Then everything went black.

When I woke, freezing wind was tearing across my face.

My eyes flew open.

For several seconds, I couldn't understand what I was seeing.

Then I looked down.

My wrists were tied with thick rope, and my body was suspended over the edge of a cliff. My legs hung over empty space, with nothing beneath them except jagged rocks far below.

I turned my head and saw Camille hanging several feet away.

Her face had gone completely pale.

A man stood nearby with a cigarette between his lips.

When he noticed I was awake, he gave me a crooked smile.

“Finally awake? Don't worry. Your husband will be here soon.”

I swallowed hard and tried to control my breathing.

My hands were shaking so badly that I was terrified the rope might slip from whatever was holding it.

Then the distant roar of engines grew louder.

Several black SUVs came racing toward the cliff before stopping sharply near the edge.

The doors opened.

Nathaniel stepped out.

He was wearing a black trench coat, his face hard and expressionless. Even from where I hung, his presence seemed to dominate the entire area.

He looked toward the kidnappers.

“Here’s your money. Let them go.”

The kidnapper checked the cash before grinning.

“As expected of President Sterling. Straight to business.”

He gestured toward his men.

“We've delivered both of them. What happens next is your problem.”

Within moments, the kidnappers disappeared.

The cliff fell into chaos.

Loose stones rolled beneath us, and the ropes groaned under our weight.

“Nathaniel!”

Camille's frightened cry pierced the wind.

“Please, I'm terrified! Get me out of here!”

One of the bodyguards inspected the ropes, his expression growing grim.

“Mr. Sterling, these ropes aren't going to hold much longer. We have enough time to pull up only one person at a time.”

Nathaniel didn't hesitate.

He immediately moved toward Camille.

I tightened my fingers around the rope.

I was still hanging there.

Still in danger.

Yet as I watched him choose her without even looking in my direction, a strange thought crossed my mind.

If I fell, would anyone even care?

Then another set of headlights appeared.

My parents had arrived.

The moment they climbed out of the car, my mother's terrified voice rang across the cliff.

“Camille!”

She rushed forward.

“Get Camille up first! Hurry! She can't handle this kind of stress!”

My father followed close behind.

“Watch the rope! Don't pull too quickly. Be careful with her!”

Camille began sobbing.

“Mom! Dad! Nathaniel! I'm scared! Please, don't let me fall!”

Nathaniel's entire demeanor softened.

“I've got you, Camille. Keep your eyes on me, all right? Don't look down. We're bringing you up now.”

“I can't hold on much longer!” she cried. “My hands hurt. Please, Nathaniel, hurry!”

“Just hold on a little longer,” he told her gently. “You're going to be fine. I promise I won't let anything happen to you.”

My mother continued shouting instructions.

“Pull harder! Don't stop! Hold on, sweetheart! Mommy's here!”

Not one of them said my name.

Not once.

I remained suspended beside Camille, the rope digging painfully into my wrists while my trembling arms slowly lost their strength.

For a moment, I wondered whether they had simply forgotten that I was there.

Then the rope above me gave a terrible creak.

I looked up.

A sharp snapping sound split through the howling wind.

“Wait!” one of the bodyguards shouted.

But there was no time.

The rope suddenly jerked violently.

Then it broke.

My body dropped.

The rocks beneath my feet broke loose and cascaded down the cliff with me as the wind screamed in my ears.

My stomach lurched as the ground vanished completely beneath me.

So this was how it ended?

After everything, was this really where my life was supposed to stop?