His grip trembled as he turned back to me, his body wracked with sobs. He cradled me in his arms, his tears wetting my hair. "I'm so sorry, Nindy... I'm so sorry..."

Chris was so overwhelmed by the entire ordeal that he fainted. Watching their impeccable performance yet again, I simply lowered my gaze, my heart devoid of any emotion.

When I woke up, I felt a hand tightly holding mine. Chris was resting his head on the hospital bed, his face weary from exhaustion. At the faintest movement of my fingers, he jolted awake, his expression instantly lighting up with relief and joy.

"Nindy, you're finally awake! How do you feel? Where does it hurt? I'll call the doctor right away!"

His concern, though seemingly genuine, only made me sick to my stomach. After destroying my body and shattering my spirit, he now had the audacity to feign affection? Who was he trying to convince?

I forced a weak smile and whispered, "You've stayed up all night. It must have been exhausting for you. You should go back and rest. The nurses will take care of me."

He hesitated, still playing his role. "But the nurses might be careless. What if they hurt you?"

Your presence is what hurts me the most.

"Go home, Chris. I'm fine."

Faced with my unwavering insistence, he had no choice but to leave, albeit reluctantly.

An hour later, my phone buzzed. A message from Bella.

I opened it to find a photo and a video. The timestamp confirmed that while I was undergoing surgery, she was on stage, accepting an award that should have been mine.

In the picture, my brother and Chris stood by her side, both beaming as they held up the championship trophy together. They looked like a perfect little family, basking in their victory—while I, the true outsider, was left behind, discarded and forgotten.

My breath hitched. Just minutes earlier, Chris had been at my bedside, whispering sweet nothings of concern. Yet here he was, celebrating in a grand hotel, laughing and drinking as if nothing had happened.

I clicked on the video. A nine-layer pink strawberry cake stood in the center of the room—Bella’s favorite color and fruit and the one I despised the most. She giggled as she smeared frosting onto their faces. Instead of getting angry, they chuckled fondly, affectionately calling her their "little troublemaker."

What caught my eye next made my fingers tighten around the phone. Chris wore a ring on his hand. A ring that was identical to the one on Bella’s finger.

She hadn’t written a single word to provoke me, yet her message was clear as day. Nothing hurts more than watching someone steal what was once yours.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and was about to lock my phone when another notification appeared in the small three-person group chat I shared with my brother and Chris.

[Ferry: "Chris, you must treat Bella well. Back when I lost everything, it was Bella who jumped into the sea to save me. Whatever she wants, even if it’s the stars in the sky, I will make sure she has them."]

A second later, the message was withdrawn. My fingers trembled as I clutched the phone, my chest tightening with an unbearable ache. A tidal wave of pain surged forward, threatening to drown me in its depths.

That day, the person who saved my brother had been me. When did the truth become her Bella’s?

Tears slipped silently down my cheeks, soaking the hospital quilt. I had lost everything—my dignity, my reputation, my dreams. And now, even my past was being rewritten, stolen by the very people I had once loved. In my darkest despair, a thought surfaced. A phone call from a month ago.

My mentor, Professor Karl, had once offered me a place in a top-secret national project for painting artifact restoration. Back then, I had hesitated. Now, there was nothing left for me here.

With a deep breath, I dialed his number.

"Professor Karl," I said, my voice steady. "I’ve decided to accept your offer. I’ll join the project."

His delight was evident. "Truly? That’s wonderful news! Your talent is unparalleled, Nindy. But I must remind you—this is a top-secret project. Once you enter, all traces of your existence will be erased from the world. Are you certain you want this?"

"I’m certain. I’ll book my flight and be there in three days."

Just as I ended the call, my brother entered the room, his expression unreadable. "I thought I heard you mention a plane ticket. Where are you going?"\

I met his gaze calmly, my lips curving into an indifferent smile. "Nowhere important," I said, finding a convenient excuse to dismiss his question.

After all, there was no need for him to know. Soon, I would vanish from their world entirely.

"No, my best friend was just asking if I wanted to book a plane ticket with her for a trip once I’ve recovered," I said, my voice calm and unbothered.

My brother let out a quiet sigh of relief, but a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. He hesitated for a moment before asking in a forced casual tone, "Just now, in our little group chat... did you see anything?"

I shook my head, feigning ignorance, acting as if I had seen nothing at all.

My brother fell silent for a few seconds, his expression conflicted. He looked at me as if he wanted to say something but struggled to find the right words. After a long pause, he finally spoke.

"Nindy, Chris is planning to get engaged to our family the day after tomorrow and the bride is..."

I waved my hand dismissively before he could finish. "I know. It’s Bella. You don’t have to worry about me throwing a fit. I’ve always seen Chris as my brother."

As soon as I finished speaking, Chris appeared in the doorway. His brows furrowed slightly and for a brief moment, a flicker of something—loss, perhaps—flashed in his eyes.

My brother, however, looked immensely relieved. "At first, I was afraid you’d make a scene, but you’re more understanding than I expected. That’s my sister. Don’t worry, I’ll find you a better boyfriend in the future."

Later? What later? By the third day, Chris and Bella were trying on wedding attire. My brother was so excited that he insisted I come along to witness their so-called happiness.

The moment Bella walked into the boutique, she drew envious gazes from everyone around her. She looked like the brightest star in the night sky, the very image of elegance and grace.

My brother pushed my wheelchair forward, positioning me among the crowd so that I could applaud their joy. Bella approached me, a look of feigned surprise crossing her delicate features. "Oh Nindy, how did you end up looking like this? When I saw your live broadcast, I almost threw up… Actually, I was just wondering—were you born to be so... filthy?"

Her sickeningly innocent words drew murmurs from the surrounding crowd. Their eyes filled with judgment, whispers of disdain spreading like wildfire. I ignored her provocation, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

She turned to my brother, lowering her voice just enough for me to hear, "Brother, I feel guilty. It’s my fault Nindy ended up like this. Can I take her outside for a little walk?"

"You don’t have to blame yourself," my brother reassured her, glancing at me with a subtle warning in his eyes. "None of this is your fault. No one would dare blame you."

Without waiting for my response, Bella grabbed the handles of my wheelchair and wheeled me outside to a secluded spot near a small pool behind the bridal store.

The moment we were alone, the sweetness on her face melted into something cruel and twisted. "Nindy, the honor that should’ve been yours—brother and Chris willingly gave it to me. Doesn’t that make you furious?"

I let out a cold chuckle. "Unlike you, I’m not shameless enough to steal what isn’t mine. You plagiarized someone else’s work and yet you still have the audacity to stand here and act so high and mighty. If I were you, I’d throw myself into this pool and end it already."

Her expression darkened instantly and she looked like a lioness ready to tear me apart. She suddenly kicked my already injured leg. A sharp, searing pain shot through me, stealing the breath from my lungs.

"Hurts, doesn’t it? But no matter how much pain you’re in now, it’s nothing compared to what those beggars did to you!" she sneered, her voice dripping with venom.

"Nindy, why did you have to come back to the Jain Family? Why couldn’t you just disappear and let me have everything?! You should’ve died!"

I exhaled slowly, suppressing the burning pain in my leg. "Don’t worry. I have no interest in taking anything from you. Once I leave, you’ll still be the beloved daughter of the Jain Family, just like before."

Her eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a sinister smile. "I don’t believe you! Not unless you spend the rest of your life rotting away in a prison cell!"

Before I could react, she suddenly pulled out a blade from somewhere and slashed her palm, letting the blood spill freely.

"Blood! Ms. Jain is hurt!" someone screamed in alarm.

From inside the boutique, my brother and Chris paled with panic and rushed outside. Their faces were full of worry and distress as they hurried to her side.

In their blind concern, they knocked over my wheelchair, sending me crashing onto the hard ground. The impact sent a jolt of pain through my battered body, but they didn’t even spare me a glance.

Bella seized the moment, pressing the blood-streaked blade into my hand. My fingers instinctively clenched around it and in the next second, fresh crimson stained my own hand as well.

By the time my brother and Chris turned their attention to me, it was already too late. The scene before them was exactly what Bella had orchestrated—a helpless, wretched girl clutching a bloodied blade, while she stood before them, trembling and injured. The perfect victim. She looked up at them, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and whispered, "Brother, Chris… She… She tried to hurt me..."

A cold, suffocating silence fell over the air. And just like that, I knew— This time, they wouldn’t hesitate to believe her.

The wound on my calf had reopened, blood seeping through the fabric of my pants, but no one seemed to care.

"Doctor! Someone call an ambulance!" Chris's voice was frantic. "Bella's hand—her hand is the hand of a future great painter! Nothing can happen to it!"

He was panicking, his hands trembling as he tried to take control of the situation. Meanwhile, my brother tore off his own shirt, hastily wrapping it around Bella’s wound. He pulled her into his arms, whispering reassurances.

"It's okay, Bella. The doctor will be here soon. Just hold on." His voice was filled with concern, but his eyes were blazing with rage as they landed on me. "What the hell happened?"

Bella whimpered, her tear-filled gaze locking onto mine, her expression full of fragile innocence. "I... I only wanted to take Nindy outside for some fresh air, to help her feel better. But then—" she choked on a sob, "—she suddenly grabbed a razor and slashed my hand. She said that if she couldn’t paint, then I shouldn’t be able to either. I was so scared..."

She sniffled, trembling slightly and clutched my brother’s arm like a frightened child.

"Brother, please don’t be angry at her... I know she didn’t mean it... she’s just—she’s just upset."

Her performance was flawless. The perfect victim. But I could see the flicker of triumph in her eyes.

My brother’s face darkened, his hands clenching into fists.

"Nindy!" he thundered. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Bella has nothing to do with your mess! If you ruin her ability to paint, I swear, I’ll make you pay with your life!"

Chris’s eyes burned with fury as he stepped forward. "Nindy, I know you’re angry that I chose Bella over you, but this? This is pathetic. I used to pity you, but now I see—this is all your own doing. You deserve every bit of what’s happening to you."

The ambulance arrived moments later and my brother and Chris helped Bella onto the stretcher. As they disappeared inside the vehicle, my brother turned back to the bodyguards.

"Lock her in the car," he ordered coldly. "She seems to love blades so much—let’s see how much she likes being locked up with a hundred of them. Let her think about what she’s done."

My heart pounded. Panic surged through me. I fell to my knees, my hands scraping against the pavement as I begged. "Brother, please! I didn’t do anything! Please, you have to believe me!"

His response was nothing but a cruel smirk. I sobbed, my voice hoarse as I pleaded, but my cries fell on deaf ears. Chris hesitated for a brief second. "Ferry, are you sure about this? The weather is scorching today and locking her in a car could be dangerous. What if something happens?"

My brother scoffed. "Oh, come on. She survived being abused by a dozen beggars. She won’t die that easily. Besides, we’re just scaring her. Let her sweat a little. She deserves it."

And with that, they left.

***

Hours passed. My throat was parched, my body drenched in sweat. The air inside the car was suffocating, the heat unbearable. My breath came in ragged gasps as I struggled against my restraints.

Then—I smelled it. Smoke. A flicker of orange light reflected on the car window. Flames. The car was on fire. I screamed, pounding my fists against the glass, my voice raw as I cried for help. The heat intensified, scorching my skin. I was going to die here. My vision blurred as I fought against the overwhelming dizziness. The smoke filled my lungs, burning from the inside out. Desperation clawed at my chest. Someone, please.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, my brother and Chris sat beside Bella as the doctor examined her injury. When they finally received confirmation that her hand would fully heal, my brother let out a sigh of relief.

"Good. Then let’s wrap this up. Release Nindy," he said casually. "A small punishment is enough. She’s still my sister, after all."

Chris nodded, reaching for his phone to call the guards. But before he could dial, his assistant burst into the room, his face pale with terror.

"Mr. Jain! There’s an emergency! The car—Miss Jain’s car—it’s on fire!" he blurted out, breathless. "Just a minute ago, she sent an email to your inbox!"