She was so weak she couldn’t even finish a sentence, her body shuddering in spasms, but her emotions flared, raw and intense.

Ivy gave a soft laugh, though most of her expression was hidden behind her surgical mask. Still, the triumphant glint in her eyes gave her away – she was basking in her victory.

“Of course, I’m here to see just how far you’ve fallen,” she said, her voice unhurried and calm.

“You… you…” Emma’s words dissolved into a wet, choking gurgle, as if her throat were filling with phlegm, or she simply couldn’t draw breath.

Jamison glanced at the monitor tracking her heartbeat, then stepped forward to fit the oxygen mask back over her face.

Emma immediately sucked in the air greedily, her chest rising and falling, the pain in her lungs easing – if only a little.

But she still had things to say. When her breathing steadied, she tried to raise her trembling hand and pull off the mask herself. The effort was pathetic; even that simple gesture was beyond her.

Jamison had to help her, gently removing the mask once more.

“Ivy… I’ve set you up so many times… nearly got you killed out in those woods even… tried… tried to end your life, more than once. Don’t you… hate me for that…?” She stared at Ivy, her eyes filled with bitterness and defeat.

She hated Ivy, too – how could she not? But after losing everything, even hatred felt like a luxury she couldn’t afford.

“If you want revenge, this is your chance. Just… just shut off those machines and I’ll be gone… You win. You win…”

Stubborn, unyielding Emma – now, all she wanted was for it to end.

The pain was relentless, gnawing at her nerves day and night, a thousand tiny knives carving her up from the inside. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t sleep, had lost all sense of time – her days blurring together in a haze of agony and confusion.

There were times she passed out from the pain, only to be pulled back to consciousness once her body had scraped together enough strength. Even then, when she managed to open her eyes, everything was just pale, shifting light and blurry shapes – like she was floating somewhere between earth and sky.

The past few weeks felt like a lifetime of torment.

Now, the moment she finally woke up, Ivy was there, standing at the edge of her bed.

She understood – her fate was now entirely in Ivy’s hands.

So all she could do was provoke her, try to goad Ivy into ending it, granting her the release she craved.

But Ivy didn’t take the bait. Instead, she smiled, a gentle, almost pitying smile. “You don’t need to push me, Emma. I won’t fall for it. I’m not like you, always plotting, always hurting others. I’m not about to stoop to your level. I’d never do something so vile.”

Emma glared, the sound in her throat growing rougher and more desperate.

“I–Ivy… you still think you’re the good one? You’re even more cruel than I ever was… still pretending to be so righteous…”

“Maybe I am. But none of that matters anymore. What matters is, you finally got what you deserved.”

Emma broke into a coughing fit, unable to get out another word.

Ivy watched her for a moment, then continued, voice cool and even. “Honestly, if you’d just confessed and done your time, you’d be out of prison by now, and this would be behind you. But the more you fought, the deeper you dragged yourself down. They say you can lose a winning hand – well, you’re living proof. If you’re looking for someone to blame, look in the mirror.”

She’d told Emma all this before. Today, she repeated it, hoping to see a flicker of regret, some sign that Emma understood.

But Emma, even at the end, refused to repent. When her coughing finally subsided, her voice was hoarse, her breathing ragged. “Fate…? No… you–you did this to me… Don’t–don’t get too smug, Ivy… I’ll be waiting to see your downfall…”

Ivy just smiled, her tone almost gentle. “That’s too bad, Emma. You won’t be around to see it.”