Chapter 10
The torment finally stopped.
Daisy collapsed onto the cold floor, her body limp, shattered, defeated. Someone grabbed her hair, yanking her back like a discarded ragdoll and tossing her carelessly into the hospital room.
Hours passed. It wasn’t until the sun began to dip low on the horizon that she found the strength to move. She crawled into a corner and curled up into herself, trembling like a frightened animal.
When she’d first arrived, she’d fought back, tried to escape, even thought about ending it all. But now? All that remained inside her was a hollow, aching terror.
A soft, mocking laugh sliced through the silence, making her flinch.
Heather.
She stood over Daisy with that signature sugary-sweet smile, the kind that never quite reached her eyes. “How pitiful,” she whispered, brushing a finger along Daisy’s pale cheek.
“You know, things would’ve been so much easier if you’d just stayed a sweet little vegetable. But no, you had to wake up and fight me for Desmond.”
Her voice turned ice-cold.
Then, with a cruel twist of her wrist, Heather jabbed a needle into Daisy’s arm.
Daisy screamed, a high-pitched, soul-rattling cry that seemed to tear the very air apart.
Heather just smiled.
Before she could do more, the door burst open.
“Mr. Thomas is here!”
Heather’s hand froze midair. Her smile never faltered, but something darker flickered in her eyes.
“Well then,” she murmured, brushing off her dress. “Let’s make sure my dear sister looks presentable for him.”
She’d been careful. The visible marks from the electric shocks were minimal, just enough to keep Daisy weak, just subtle enough that Desmond wouldn’t notice.
When Desmond arrived, Daisy could barely hold back her tears. She reached for him, clinging to his hand like it was the last lifeline she had.
“Desmond… I was wrong,” she sobbed. “Please, take me away from here. I’ll do anything, I promise. Just… please.”
Her voice cracked under the weight of despair. She could barely breathe, let alone hope.
He looked at her, really looked. Her tear-streaked face, the way her frame had wasted away in just a short time. Something in his expression shifted, his heart twisting with what almost looked like guilt.
But then Heather’s voice cut in like a blade.
“The early stages of treatment are always brutal,” she said gently, her eyes glinting. “But Daisy’s at a critical point. Stopping now could undo everything.”
She reached out, touching Daisy’s shoulder like a concerned sister. “Besides, look at her, so much calmer now. She’s not lashing out or trying to hurt anyone. The treatment is working.”
Desmond hesitated.
And that was all it took.
He turned back to Daisy, the words he’d wanted to say dying on his lips. Instead, he offered her a faint smile.
“Daisy, I’ll come for you before the wedding,” he said softly. “Be good, okay?”
His hand slipped from hers.
She clung to him until the very last second, but his back was already turning. He was leaving her behind again.
“Desmond!” she cried out, raw desperation in her voice.
He paused.
For one brief second, he almost looked back.
Almost.
Then he walked away.
Something snapped inside her. The ache, the disappointment, it was all swallowed by a single, searing truth:
She hated him.
Desmond had always protected Heather. Always. But he never once gave Daisy the security of love or a commitment. Not even after everything.
And now, he was choosing Heather again.
Heather had wanted to finish her off right there and then, but she knew better. Daisy was only in this hell because of her, and an untimely death might raise questions, especially from Desmond.
But if Daisy died outside?
Well… then no one would blame Heather at all.
That night, the door creaked open slowly.
Daisy, curled in the corner like a wounded animal, snapped her head up.
No one entered.
The door remained slightly ajar, glowing faintly under the hallway lights. It felt like a dream, an invitation whispered on the wind.
It might be a trap. She knew it could be. But her body moved anyway, pulled by something deep inside her, hope, maybe. Or just the instinct to survive.
She stepped into the hallway, the silence pressing in on her.
Then she ran.
Alarms shrieked to life behind her, harsh and deafening. Floodlights snapped on, bathing the compound in stark white light. Security guards shouted, closing in fast.
But Daisy didn’t look back.
She ran.
In the surveillance room, Heather leaned back in her chair, sipping from a teacup, watching it all unfold with a smug smile. Her plan was perfect, Daisy would run toward the front gate, where danger waited.
But as the minutes ticked by, Heather’s smile faded.
Something was wrong.
Daisy didn’t take the front route.
Instead, she’d slipped out through the back, her path leading up the mountain, away from the roads, away from the trap.
Heather’s jaw clenched.
No. No. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
She cursed under her breath, her eyes narrowing with fury.
Without a word, she stood and stormed out after Daisy herself.
