Chapter 189 Amara Jumped
Donny was tied to the cold metal pillar, his wrists bleeding from the restraints. His voice was hoarse, almost breaking. "Don't... William, come at me if you want, don't touch her!"
Isabella slowly lifted her eyes toward him, quiet as if making her final goodbye.
Donny's whole body shook—she really wanted to die for him, to trade her life for his safety.
William's eyes churned with cold fury, a mocking smile curling at his lips.
"What an unbreakable bond, Isabella. You really have a talent for making men lose their minds over you."
Isabella didn't respond, only straightened her back slightly and took a step forward on her own.
As long as Donny was okay, nothing else mattered.
William raised his hand, and the iron whip came down with a whistling sound.
The whip struck her back, tearing through fabric as blood seeped out. Isabella staggered, biting her lip hard, not making a sound.
"William, the baby in Isabella's belly is yours!" Donny's eyes were bloodshot with rage. "You'll regret this!"
His?
William's movement paused slightly, but suspicion and anger instantly overwhelmed that brief unease, and the whip rose again.
When this lash fell, Isabella curled up violently on the ground, her body convulsing.
It wasn't the pain in her back—it was deep in her lower abdomen, a sudden sharp, dropping pain that exploded.
Warm, sticky blood flowed uncontrollably from between her legs, quickly spreading into a shocking pool of red on the cold floor.
This was a sign of threatened miscarriage...
William's hand froze in mid-air, the iron whip dropping to the ground.
His gaze locked onto that expanding pool of blood red, watching Isabella's face instantly lose all color. He stood frozen like he'd been struck by lightning.
Shock and helplessness instantly drowned out all his rage.
He hadn't checked the timeline yet, hadn't confirmed the truth, hadn't had time to figure it out... and the baby was just gone.
His fingertips trembled uncontrollably, his chest felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand, and a dense pain broke through all his pride and hatred for the first time.
"William, that was your child! Yours!"
Donny, overcome with rage and grief, spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed, his vision going dark.
Isabella lay in the pool of blood, her vision gradually blurring. She didn't cry, didn't cry out in pain—only a deathly quiet relief.
Maybe it was better this way... her child wouldn't have to come into this world to suffer.
Before her consciousness completely sank into darkness, she whispered softly, "...I'm sorry."
The hospital corridor was a blinding white.
The doctor's voice was cold as ice. "The baby couldn't be saved. Severe hemorrhage and trauma, uterine damage... the patient will almost certainly never be able to conceive again."
William stood outside the hospital room, his fingertips white from clenching, his palms covered in cold sweat.
The baby was gone.
He hadn't even heard the truth, hadn't had a chance to confirm anything.
That child he'd called a "bastard" had died because of his hesitation and violence.
The panic and sharp pain in his heart overwhelmed all his hatred for the first time.
He was wrong.
He was really wrong.
When Amara rushed into the hospital room, she froze in place.
Isabella on the bed—eyes closed, face white as paper, breathing weak, only one bleeding bandaged wound on her back, but so thin she was wasting away, like a flower that had been completely crushed.
Her unborn child was gone.
Her body was ruined.
It seemed the whole world had abandoned her.
Amara's knees went weak and she collapsed beside the bed, gripping Isabella's ice-cold hand as tears poured out.
"Isabella... it's Amara, wake up... look at me..."
She kept watch for three days and nights, not eating, not drinking, not sleeping, her eyes never leaving Isabella for a moment, afraid that if she closed them, she'd lose her forever.
She watched Isabella curl up unconsciously in her coma, moaning softly, watched her shake all over from pain, unable even to cry.
Amara's heart felt like it had been shattered by a heavy hammer, turned into dust that could never be put back together.
She hated William, hated this world, and hated herself even more.
She was Isabella's only friend.
But she couldn't protect anything, couldn't change anything.
On the morning of the fourth day, Isabella finally slowly opened her eyes.
Those eyes had completely lost their light—no brightness, no focus, like a dead, still lake.
Amara threw herself forward and held her tight, crying so hard her whole body shook. "Isabella, I'm here... I've always been here."
Isabella had no reaction, her voice so soft it almost disappeared into the air. "The baby's gone. I don't feel sorry... he shouldn't have come into this world anyway. He would've been like me—covered in filth, swallowed by pain, abandoned by everyone."
Amara held her, crying her heart out.
Isabella gently raised her hand and touched her hair. "Amara, what does heaven look like? Do people really become stars? I want to see my sister, see my grandparents... see that child."
Amara's whole body shook. She let go and stared at her.
She could see clearly—Isabella's soul was already dead, leaving only an empty shell that was still breathing.
Amara suddenly smiled, a smile that was beautiful, broken, and determined.
"Do you really want to go?"
"Really."
"Okay, wait for me. I'll get water to wash your face. I'll be right back."
"Okay."
Isabella obediently closed her eyes and lay back down.
She thought it would only be a moment.
She didn't know these would be their last words.
A few minutes later.
Screams and cries suddenly erupted outside the hospital room, along with chaotic footsteps.
Isabella sat up in confusion and stumbled out the door.
She had just reached the corridor when the scene before her made all the blood in her body instantly freeze.
Amara hadn't gone to the rooftop, hadn't gone far.
She was right there by the corridor window not far from the hospital room, wearing that white dress Isabella loved, face deathly pale, eyes desperate, stepping backward until her back pressed against the window frame with nowhere left to go.
"Amara!"
Isabella screamed, her voice breaking, rushing forward like she'd gone mad.
"Don't come closer!" Amara's face was streaming with tears, but she smiled gently and desperately. "Isabella, don't be afraid. It doesn't hurt... I'll go wait for you there first. I'll always be with you."
"No... Amara, come down, I was wrong, I won't say those things anymore, come down!"
Isabella lunged forward, her fingertips just an inch away from grabbing her hand.
But it was too late.
Amara gently leaned backward, like a white feather blown by the wind, falling straight down from the corridor window.
A dull, heavy thud exploded on the ground below.
Isabella froze by the window, her body shaking violently beyond control, her gaze locked on that shocking red below.
Amara lay on the cold ground, her white dress completely soaked in blood, like a flower crushed without mercy, no longer breathing.
She would never open her eyes again, nor call out "Isabella" again.
And she would never smile at Isabella and say, "I'm with you."
She was Isabella's best friend, her last light.
Now, that light had gone out before her eyes.
At a distance where she could have touched her, it disappeared forever.
"Amara!"
Isabella let out a piercing, air-splitting scream, a sound carrying shattered despair.
Her throat was torn to its limits, blood surging to the corner of her lips, spilling into every ragged breath until even the air tasted of iron and red.
The world before her eyes began to spin violently, all color drained away in an instant, leaving only a blinding white—and that indelible red below.
In that moment, her mental world completely collapsed, shattered into dust, and disappeared into the endless void.