---- Chapter 6 The sky opened up as she ran, a cold, drenching rain that mirrored the storm inside her. By the time she got home, she was soaked to the bone, shivering uncontrollably. She collapsed onto her bed, the world dissolving into a feverish haze. She tried to call Julian, a last, desperate instinct she couldn't suppress. The call went to voicemail. His voice, cheerful and detached, was the last thing she heard before she passed out. She woke up in a hospital bed. Not the one she' d been in before, but a different one. A kind-faced maid from the Copeland estate was sitting by her side. "You have a severe case of pneumonia, Miss Tucker. You were unconscious for two days." Two days. Julian hadn't come. He hadn't even called. Her phone lay on the bedside table. When she turned it on, it was flooded with messages. Not from Julian, but from Estelle. Dozens of them. Photos of her and Julian laughing in the hospital cafeteria. A selfie of them holding hands, a diamond bracelet on Estelle' s wrist. "A get-well-soon present from my darling Julian," the text read. ---- Another message: "Julian told me the funniest thing. He said he only proposed to you out of pity. He said your scars creep him out, but he felt too guilty to say no. Poor thing." And another, a picture of Estelle wearing a beautiful, simple white dress. "Julian took me to see the wedding venue today. He said this is the dress he always imagined his bride wearing. It's a shame it' s your wedding." The final message was a video. Julian and Estelle, standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean, the spot where the wedding was supposed to take place. Estelle was in his arms. "| love you, Stel," Julian' s voice said, clear as day. "I always have." Ember watched it, her face expressionless. The pain was gone, replaced by a vast, cold emptiness. The love she had harbored for him, the stubborn, resilient love that had survived a fire, a coma, and countless betrayals, was finally, irrevocably dead. She didn't just not love him anymore. She felt nothing for him at all. He came back to the penthouse that evening, looking refreshed and happy. The time with Estelle had clearly agreed with him. "You' re back," he said, noticing her for the first time. "| was worried." "I'm fine," she said, her voice a monotone. ---- "Good," he said, relieved to have that duty out of the way. "We' re moving to my family' s estate tomorrow until the wedding. It' s more secure. Oh, and Estelle will be one of your bridesmaids. | thought it would be a nice gesture of unity." He was putting his mistress in her wedding party. The audacity of it was breathtaking. Ember just looked down at her hands. "Okay." "Are you angry?" he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He couldn' t understand why she wasn' t playing her part, the grateful, forgiving fiancée. "No," she said. "I'm not angry." And she wasn't. She was completely, utterly numb. The next day, they drove to the Copeland estate. A sprawling, gothic mansion that had always felt more like a prison than a home. Estelle was already there, waiting on the grand stone steps. She ran to the car as they pulled up, her face a perfect picture of joy and affection. The heavy oak doors of the estate swung open, and Ember walked back into the lion' s den.