Chapter 50

Chapter 50
LOUISA’S POV
The ride to wherever they were taking me was long, cold, and eerily quiet. The two men in scrubs sat in the back seat beside me, one on each side, their arms folded neatly across their chests as though restraining me wasn’t enough, they needed to cage the air itself. My wrists were still red from the cuffs. I could taste salt on my lips, maybe from the tears I hadn’t realized I was still crying.
Outside the window, the city blurred. The car hummed while my thoughts screamed and spun like broken glass. Every bump in the road rattled through my bones. I kept hoping, foolishly, that Benedict would call, that maybe he’d changed his mind, that he’d realized what he’d done.
But he didn’t.
By the time the car stopped, the night air had deepened into something colder. The building in front of me looked nothing like a hospital; it looked like a prison dressed up as one. Its windows were narrow, its walls white, and everything smelled faintly of disinfectant and something metallic.
One of the men got out and opened my door. “Let’s go, Mrs. Blackwood.”
The way he said my name made my stomach twist. Mrs. Blackwood. As though it meant something. As though the name itself wasn’t about to be erased from me.
They didn’t bother taking off the restraints. I stumbled as they pulled me out, my shoes scraping against the gravel. My voice finally worked its way out. “Please, this is a mistake. You have it all wrong. I’m not crazy.”
The receptionist at the front desk barely looked up. She was older, with thin glasses perched low on her nose, and her fingers clacked rapidly against a keyboard. 
“Name?” she asked, as though I were checking into a hotel.
“Louisa.” I pause, wondering if I should include Blackwood to my name. 
“Blackwood,” one of the men answered for me.
“I’m not..” I tried again, but my throat was raw. “I’m not supposed to be here! My husband made a mistake. I… I was pushed down the stairs. I lost my baby. I’m grieving. That’s why I was upset.”
The receptionist didn’t even blink. She stamped something on a clipboard and muttered, “Doctor’s waiting.”
“Please!” I begged, tears burning the corners of my eyes. “Listen to me! You need to let me go. I’m not dangerous!”
That was when I saw a woman in white scrubs walk out from the hallway, her face sharp and pale beneath the lights. Her hair was tied in a severe bun, and her lips curved into a polite, practiced smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
She stopped in front of me. “Mrs. Blackwood,” she said, her tone too calm. “I’m Dr. Latham. I’ll be in charge of your care here.”
“I don’t need care,” I blurted, shaking my head so hard my vision blurred. “I was pushed down the stairs. That’s why I fell. I lost my baby because of that, and my husband doesn’t believe me. I’m not mad, I’m just..”
But she was laughing, softly at first, then louder, until her laughter echoed against the tiled walls. My stomach turned to stone. And then, like a ghost emerging from behind her, Sabrina appeared.
At first, I didn’t recognize her. Her hair was neatly brushed, her face pale but painted with that same innocent calm she always wore when someone else was looking. But her eyes gleamed with mischief.
The air left my lungs. “You,” I whispered. Sabrina’s lips curved upward as she gave me the smile of a cat that had finally caught the mouse.
Before I could say another word, she let out a sudden, piercing scream. “Don’t let her near me!” she cried, stumbling backward dramatically. “She’s dangerous! She pushed me down the stairs! She tried to kill me!”
“What?” I gasped, shaking my head violently. “That’s not true! You.. you pushed me! She’s lying!”
But the men from the car were already behind me again. Their hands clamped around my arms, forcing me down into the nearest chair. I could barely move as they pinned me there.
“Please!” I cried out. “You have to believe me, she’s lying! She’s the one who —”
Sabrina’s tone changed instantly. From shrill panic to soft sympathy. She stepped closer, feigning tears, pressing a trembling hand to her heart. “I never wanted it to come to this,” she said, her voice cracking. “All I ever tried to do was help her, comfort her after she lost her child. But she’s… she’s been cruel. So cruel.”
Her eyes met mine, and the faintest smile tugged at her lips before she turned to Dr. Latham. “You see, doctor, this is what I’ve been dealing with ever since Benedict brought her into our family. The fits, the jealousy, the violence.”
“That’s not true!” I shouted. My voice echoed across the room.
Sabrina’s bottom lip trembled as she reached for her sleeve. “No one ever believed me,” she continued. “They all think she’s just this sweet, naive girl from the streets, but look.”
She pulled up her sleeve, revealing pale skin marred with faint, healed scars. Some looked too precise, but in that moment, they looked horrifyingly real. Gasps rippled from the nurses nearby.
“These are the things I’ve suffered since she came into our family,” Sabrina said tearfully. “I thought she was just naïve. I thought she didn’t know any better. But she hides her wickedness behind her stupidity.”
I froze. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. The words hit me like a blow. She had taken everything I was; my foolishness, my naivety, my softness and turned it into a weapon against me.
“You’re lying,” I finally whispered. “You’re lying, Sabrina. You… you did this. You pushed me. You’re the one who’s wicked, you hide behind that smile, you always..”
I tried to stand, but before I could, Sabrina ducked suddenly, clutching her stomach and crying out. “Please, Louisa, don’t hurt me again! Don’t take my baby!”
“What… no! I’m not -” The men behind me reacted instantly. I felt their hands tighten around my arms. A nurse rushed forward with a syringe.
“Please!” I sobbed, twisting against their grip. “Don’t.. don’t do this! She’s lying! Please!”
But my words didn’t matter anymore. It never did.
The needle pricked my arm before I could even flinch. A rush of icy heat spread through my veins. My heart began to pound out of rhythm, my breaths coming shallow and fast. The room tilted, bending at the edges like melted glass.
Sabrina’s face blurred in front of me, but I could still make out that faint, satisfied smile.
She leaned closer, her voice a whisper only I could hear. “Now Benedict is all mine, Louisa.”
I tried to curse her, to shout, to scream, but my tongue felt heavy, my limbs were stone. The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me was Sabrina, standing there like a porcelain angel, crocodile tears glistening on her cheeks as she turned to the doctor and said softly, “She needs help, doctor. Please take good care of her.”
Then everything went black.
And as I fell into the dark, a final thought clawed its way in my head. If I ever made it out of this place alive, Sabrina as well as the Blackwood’s would learn what it meant to underestimate the fool.
___________