Chapter 31 How Did You Become Like This
The sharp sting of antiseptic hit the back of her throat, making her gag uncontrollably. The mattress beneath her was soft in a way that felt unreal, as if it belonged to a world she had no right to enter.
Caroline had been drifting in the black depths of unconsciousness for so long that waking felt like stepping into another dream. She forced her heavy eyelids open, and the glare of white light forced tears from her eyes.
Was this... another world? And why wasn't she still in that place of pain? Someone like her didn't wake in a room this warm, this quiet.
A familiar face moved into view. "Caroline? You're awake?" The man's gaze locked on hers, steady and searching.
She blinked slowly, her mind crawling back into focus. She knew that face—or she should have. But her memories felt sealed away, unreachable.
"You don't remember me?" he asked gently. "Back in university, we saw each other all the time."
Her brow furrowed, confusion twisting her features. Then, like scattered fragments finding their place, recognition returned.
Daniel Cortes. A classmate from her university days—same year, different field. He had studied geological exploration. They'd met through a student club, worked together often enough to be friends.
But she couldn't recall the last time they'd spoken. Five years? Longer? What was he doing here?
She opened her mouth, but her throat was so dry and raw that even a hum scraped painfully out.
"Don't try to talk yet. Here—water." He turned quickly, grabbed a cup with a straw from the bedside table, and held it to her lips, one hand supporting the back of her neck.
Caroline was too thirsty to question anything. She leaned in, drinking in small, desperate sips.
"Slow down," Daniel murmured.
The water eased the burn in her throat, but it made the rest of her body's pain stand out sharper. Her left leg was encased in heavy plaster, suspended above the bed. Every inch of her skin that could feel was screaming. And yet she was alive.
"I..." Her voice was barely a whisper. "What happened to me?"
"You've got multiple injuries," Daniel said, his tone weighted. "Fractured tibia in your left leg, several severe contusions and lacerations... and some older scars."
He hesitated, then asked, "Caroline... what have you been through these past years? I almost didn't recognize you. If it weren't for that little mole on your collarbone, I wouldn't have been sure."
He had found her at the bottom of a cold, muddy ravine. He and a few fellow adventurers had been doing night training nearby when the rain came down in sheets, forcing them to seek shelter. That was when he heard the faintest groan.
Following the sound, his flashlight caught her—half-submerged in filthy water, barely breathing. They had carried her out through the storm.
Caroline's chest tightened as she listened. This life... this humiliation... she had never wanted anyone to see it. She had cut off nearly every friend she'd ever had.
And yet Daniel had seen her like this—the most broken she had ever been.
"I'm fine..." she forced a smile. "Thank you for saving me, Daniel. I was just... doing some extreme exploration nearby. I slipped."
His eyes flicked over the web of old scars across her skin. He didn't believe her.
"No one goes on an extreme trek without any protective gear," he said quietly. "You weren't even dressed for it."
"I like pushing limits." She turned her head away. "Really. Trust me... please?" That last word came out almost as a plea.
Daniel wanted to press, but her evasive gaze made him swallow the question. He let it go, offering only a small, warm smile. "Then be careful next time. Going alone is too dangerous."
He reached for a tube of ointment on the bedside table. "By the way, the nurse said you had some burns. They've been treated, but we don't want scars. This cream works well for healing and fading marks—it's something I used during fieldwork. Try it."
The tube was new and still sealed. He had clearly bought it for her, yet he didn't say it outright. He was careful not to strip away her dignity.
Caroline felt a sudden ache in her chest. In five years, aside from Lina, no one had shown her care without wanting something in return. Alexander's hatred, her parents' coldness, Celeste's manipulation, the contempt of strangers... she had grown used to cruelty.
And Daniel—almost a stranger now—had saved her from death without demanding answers, offering only a simple gift that might help.
Tears welled before she could stop them. She turned her face away so he wouldn't see.
"Don't cry. Your tears might infect the wound," Daniel said softly. He pulled a clean tissue and dabbed gently at the corner of her eye.
"Thank you..." Caroline's voice broke.
That rare warmth felt like a sliver of light piercing her frozen world—yet it only made her see the pit she lived in more clearly. It made her feel even more hollow, even more helpless.
Her life felt stripped of meaning. Even warmth was fleeting, gone before she could hold it.
Daniel watched her silent tears, his own chest tight. Caroline had once been unbreakable, meeting every challenge with a smile. He could tell her story was full of holes, that her injuries were no accident. Her despair was too deep for something as simple as a fall.
But he respected her silence. He stayed beside her, wiping away the tears as they came.
"Don't cry," he said again, his voice low.
The door opened quietly. A tall figure stepped inside, filling the doorway without a sound.