Since I was mute and blind, so I could only use all my strength to cling to the cliff wall, shaking my head and sobbing, silently begging Harold to spare me.

Instead, he kicked the back of my hand hard, forcing me to loosen my grip. The sharp rocks pierced my palms, sending searing pain through me. I let out a muffled scream as fresh blood mixed with the tears flowing from my eyes, which had not yet fully healed after the transplant.

Harold glanced around anxiously, afraid that nearby climbers might hear my cries. Without hesitation, he crouched down and began prying my fingers off the rock, one by one.

The touch of his palm against my fingers made me tremble. These were the same hands that had once held mine countless times, the same hands that had guided me through hardships, both big and small.

I had believed that as long as we were of one heart, we could overcome anything and live happily together. But now, those same warm hands were pushing me toward my death.

At last, my grip failed and I plummeted from the cliff.

My body crashed against the jagged rock face, the sharp edges tearing into my skin my eyes, my nose, my cheeks.

But at that moment, the pain faded. All I could feel was the terrifying, endless weightlessness consuming me.

Then, I hit the freezing, bottomless lake below.

The impact knocked me unconscious instantly and icy water rushed into my lungs through my nose and mouth. The suffocating cold jolted me awake and a desperate will to survive surged through me. But I knew that I couldn’t just accept my fate. I couldn’t let myself die.

With the last of my strength, I struggled to swim toward the shore. But before I could reach it, darkness swallowed me whole. Was this the end for me?

I didn’t know how long I had been unconscious, but through my daze, I heard a voice speaking to me.

"My goodness, sweetie, you’re seriously injured. Her eyeballs are heavily injured. Her nose is fractured terribly.”

"Maybe our team can save you, but we need you to try new materials. Are you willing?"

Doctor Morris' team from the Massachusetts General Hospital had been having a barbecue by the lake when they found me on the shore. Without hesitation, they brought me back to their laboratory. I guessed this was a miracle.

Without further ado, I nodded vigorously. If someone was willing to save me, I wouldn’t waste the chance to live.

Someone then lifted my arm and pressed my hand onto a document. Without any hesitation, I signed the form. After that, they wheeled me into the operating room.

As soon as I was brought out again, my head was wrapped tightly in white bandages like a mummy. The bandages left only my nostrils for breathing and my mouth for eating. Although I looked funny, I endured it patiently.

Three months later, the bandage was removed, layer by layer.

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but widen my eyes in shock. After all, I found out that I now had a pair of heterochromatic pupils. my left eye was a deep green, while my right eye was an icy blue. Under different lighting, the colors shifted in intensity.

"Artificial corneas are usually transparent, but after reshaping your severely injured eyeballs, this effect unexpectedly happened to you," Doctor Morris said in amazement, standing behind me.

Not only were my eyes strikingly beautiful, but my nose had also been reshaped. My new nose had a high, elegant bridge. Not to mention, my skin had become smooth and pale which was as flawless as a high fashion model.

Was this still me?

Overwhelmed, I covered my mouth excitedly.

"How is it? Are you satisfied with the results of our research team?" Doctor Morris asked me with a smile on his face.

More than satisfied it was a miracle! I raised my thumb to him in gratitude.

"You won’t need gestures to express yourself anymore. Try to speak," Doctor Morris encouraged me.

Tears of gratitude welled up in my eyes as I parted my lips and forced out two simple words.

"I’m satisfied, Doctor!"

The researchers around me erupted into warm applause. They were proud of the experiment’s success and overjoyed at my ‘rebirth’. After all, this was very heartwarming.

For twenty years, I had been mute in vain. I had been abandoned on the roadside as a newborn and taken to a nearby orphanage by a kind-hearted passerby. In the orphanage, having enough food and clothes was a luxury and no one ever paid attention to my subtle physical condition.

When other children ridiculed me for my short tongue tie and unclear pronunciation, I stopped trying to speak altogether. Eventually, I became completely mute. But now, Doctor Morris had made one final cut at the root of my tongue giving me a voice at last.

I had not only become beautiful but also whole.

Doctor Morris' team kept me at the institute, monitoring my health data daily and studying any signs of rejection from the artificial corneas.

At noon, I sat in the staff cafeteria as usual, eating my meal while the television played a talk show in the background.

The host’s excited voice rang through the speakers.

"Miss Cassandra Pritchett’s bold decision to cast newcomers was absolutely the right choice! Harold’s moving performance in ‘Give Me Ten Days of Light’ is winning hearts everywhere. This film is bound to be a massive success. Congratulations!"

The camera panned to Cassandra Pritchett, the film’s director, who accepted the microphone with a blushing face.

"I auditioned countless professional actors," she said.

She then continued, "But they all felt too rehearsed. I needed someone raw, someone who could embody the emotions I was searching for."

Her eyes shone as she spoke, clearly proud of her discovery.

"And then Harold came into my life."

The audience let out teasing cheers, making Cassandra blush deeper.

The host chuckled and leaned in as he spoke, "Miss Pritchett, let’s put the movie aside for a second. Be honest with us. Is Harold your type in real life?"

For the first time in the interview, Cassandra hesitated. She smiled shyly, no longer as bold as before.

"Well," she began carefully.

After that, she continued, "Harold is such a hard worker. He’s always the first to arrive on set. Every day, he finds a quiet corner, listens to audio recordings and studies the script."

Her gaze softened as she kept on talking, "I think there’s nothing more attractive than a man who takes his work seriously."

Then, the camera immediately cut to Harold. The moment I saw his face, my heart clenched.

Snap!

The utensils in my hand bent.

Harold wrinkled his nose slightly, a familiar habit of his when he was annoyed. I knew that look all too well. He wasn’t interested in Cassandra, no matter how much she admired him.

The host, picking up on the tension, quickly handed the microphone to Harold, as he said, "Mr. Harold Wellington, Miss Pritchett just spoke very fondly of you. Do you have anything to say to her?"

Harold took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around the mic.

"First of all, I want to thank Miss Pritchett," he said calmly.

"Without her, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I have always respected her as a mentor."

A polite answer. But then his tone shifted.

"’Give Me Ten Days of Light’ gave me lots of money. It helped me regain my eyesight. But…"

His voice wavered for the briefest moment.

"I also lost the person I loved most."

The studio audience let out a collective sigh. Cassandra’s expression soured instantly.

Harold turned to the camera, his gaze filled with sincerity.

"She was never part of this industry. She was just an ordinary girl. But when she saw me rise to fame, saw that my eyes had healed, she thought she wasn’t worthy of me anymore… and disappeared without a trace."

Silence filled the room.

Then, Harold spoke again, his voice firm but pleading as he said, "My love, if you’re watching this please come back to me. I will always wait for you."