Chapter 19 Her Life Caused Everyone Pain
Juniper carried the thermos to the bedside and opened the lid, releasing a rich, earthy ginseng aroma into the air. She scooped up a spoonful and brought it to Isabella's lips, her voice laced with feigned warmth. "Isabella, I bought this ginseng specially for you. Simmered it for hours on low heat. It'll do you good."
Isabella's eyes finally moved, her gaze landing first on the spoon, then slowly traveling up to Juniper's face.
That face—more like Beatrice's than her own—wore a smile that radiated a hollow kind of kindness.
Juniper was mimicking Beatrice.
"Why won't you drink?" Juniper deliberately raised her voice. "Look how thin you've gotten. Everyone's worried sick. At least take two sips. Don't throw my effort back in my face."
A wave of nausea churned in Isabella's gut. She turned her head away, her cracked lips pressed tightly together, refusing the spoon.
A flash of malice flickered in Juniper's eyes. She twisted her wrist deliberately, and the scalding soup splashed directly onto Isabella's neck and arm.
Isabella jerked violently, the burning pain making her hand fly up instinctively, knocking against Juniper's wrist. A dull thud—the thermos crashed to the floor, soup splattering onto Juniper's clothes.
"Ah!" Juniper cried out, clutching her wrist and stumbling back two steps, her eyes instantly brimming with tears. "Isabella, how could you? I was only trying to help you recover. Even if you didn't want it, you didn't have to..."
William's gaze snapped tight. He'd only seen Isabella's hand swing out—from his angle, it looked like she'd knocked the thermos away in irritation.
Seeing Juniper's wounded, reddening eyes, whatever unease he'd felt from Isabella's resemblance to Beatrice evaporated instantly.
"Isabella, that's enough!" William stepped forward, pulling Juniper protectively behind him, his eyes cold as winter steel. "Juniper went out of her way to make you soup, and this is how you repay her kindness?"
"Juniper, are you alright? Did you get burned?" Isla grabbed Juniper's hand, examining it carefully before whirling on Isabella with fury blazing in her eyes. "You ungrateful wretch. First you killed Beatrice, now you're hurting innocent Juniper. Why don't you just die already?"
Benjamin's brow furrowed deeply, his voice heavy with disappointment. "You've let us down beyond words."
Isabella opened her mouth, but her throat felt strangled. The scalding liquid seeped through her skin into her bones, old pain tangled with the fresh burns until her fingers trembled uncontrollably.
But when she saw the disgust filling William's eyes, saw her parents' concern for Juniper and their hatred for her, suddenly she didn't want to say anything at all.
In everyone's eyes, she was cursed—unworthy of living.
Isla said urgently, "William, take Juniper to see a doctor right away. Make sure she's not seriously hurt."
William wrapped his arm around Juniper's waist, not sparing Isabella even a glance. "I'll get your wound treated."
They clustered around Juniper and left, the hospital door slamming shut behind them, cutting off all sound from outside.
Isabella lay in the bed, blisters already forming on her arm and neck, but she seemed not to feel the pain at all, her empty gaze fixed on the ceiling.
Half an hour later, the attending physician came in for rounds. When he saw her injuries, his face darkened immediately.
The doctor pulled back the blanket—old bruises hadn't yet faded, and the fresh burns were horrifying. Anger edged his voice. "What happened to you? Old wounds not healed and now new ones? Where's your family? Why isn't anyone taking care of you?"
His rebuke echoed through the hospital room. Isabella closed her eyes, as if none of it concerned her.
"These burns are severe. If they're not treated properly and get infected, they could be life-threatening. You young people—why don't you value your own lives?"
The doctor called in a nurse to help change Isabella's soaked hospital gown and clean the burns.
Life-threatening?
That would be fine, actually.
Isabella looked at the doctor. He seemed to read something in her expression and let out a heavy sigh.
"In this hospital, there are countless critically ill patients fighting desperately to stay alive. But some people throw their lives away so casually, thinking it'll bring them peace. All it does is cause more pain for the people around them."
Isabella wanted to say, "it's not like that..."
Her living was what caused everyone pain.
If she died, everyone would breathe easier.
The doctor shook his head, applied ointment to her wounds, and instructed the nurse to monitor her condition.
She didn't know how much time had passed when the door opened again. Amara walked in carrying a fruit basket, took one look at Isabella's pale face and the burns, and her expression changed drastically.
Ever since their last encounter, Amara had felt a knot tightening in her chest.
She'd finally managed to track down information about Isabella's whereabouts—only to find her in the hospital.
"How did you get hurt this badly?"
Isabella blinked in surprise—this was Amara, the woman who'd helped her outside the club entrance.
Why had she come here?
Amara approached the bed, looking at the angry red blisters with concern. "Every time I see you, you're in this state."
Yes. Every time, she was injured.
"Why did you come?"
"Because I'm worried about you, obviously. And what happened at the club that night? You were dressed like that and collapsed outside the entrance. Didn't William ask any questions?"
The words hit Isabella like a physical blow, shame and terror from that night flooding back instantly.
She shook her head, offering no response.
Amara's heart ached watching her. "Give me your phone."
Isabella handed it over. Amara saved her number in it and placed it back in Isabella's hand.
"Isabella, I told you I want to be your friend. From now on, if anything happens, you call me. Understood?"
"Okay."
Amara stayed and chatted with her for a while, only leaving when she saw Isabella had no energy left.
The moment Amara's footsteps faded, Juniper's figure emerged from around the corner. She'd come back to retrieve something but had overheard their conversation.
They were talking about what happened outside the club.
What else had occurred that night?
Curiosity flickered in Juniper's eyes before she quickly masked it. When she pushed open the door, her face wore a mask of false remorse.
"Isabella, how are you feeling now? I'm so sorry about earlier. It's all my fault for not holding the bowl steady."
If she truly felt sorry, she would have explained at the time—not come back now with this performance.
Juniper heard footsteps outside the door. From the corner of her eye, she spotted William. She gently took Isabella's uninjured hand, her voice tender. "The doctor said you need proper rest. While you're hospitalized, don't let dark thoughts consume you. I'll come see you again tomorrow."
Isabella said nothing, simply watching her act.
Juniper turned to William, her smile radiant. "William, I haven't watched the sunrise in so long. Would you come with me?"
William looked at her gentle, understanding demeanor—so much like Beatrice. Then he looked at Isabella's coldness and sharp edges, which only made him more irritated.
"Sure. You're too kind and gentle for your own good. People always take advantage of you."
Juniper tilted her head up at him with a smile, a glint of triumph in her eyes.