Hating You to the Grave Chapter 7

When I woke up, every ounce of strength had been drained from my body. It was broad daylight.

I struggled to crawl out of the compartment. I put on a clean black dress and carefully applied my brightest red lipstick to hide my pale lips.

I intended to go to the hospital for a check-up. But passing the living room, I noticed the only family photo on the wall was gone.

It was a picture of me, my late mother, and... a very young Julian Devereaux from many years ago. My mom had insisted on keeping it.

I didn't know why Jules took it. My brain hurt too much to think deep thoughts.

My body was worse than I imagined. I only made it down two steps of the creaky stairs before everything went black. I pitched forward.

The last thing I heard was the terrified scream of the elderly neighbor downstairs calling 911.

Memories scrambled. Warm blood kept pouring from my mouth, soaking my dress and the stretcher. But weirdly, the pain was gone. I just felt numb.

"Move! Emergency coming through!"

I was wheeled rapidly through the hospital corridor.

Through my blurry vision, I saw Dr. Lee running toward me. And the person he pushed aside... looked like Julian.

He was supporting Savannah, who was limping on a sprained ankle.

"Why is that person bleeding so much?"

"Looks like she's vomiting it. So young. What a pity..."

The medical team surrounded me. Through a gap in the crowd, Jules’s gaze pierced through and landed on my face. He looked shocked for a split second.

But only a second.

He looked away, his face expressionless, and tightened his grip on Savannah. He looked down at his phone.

My phone, in my hand, buzzed again. Another threatening text from him.

Yeah.

Julian Devereaux would never guess that the crazy, arrogant Evangeline from yesterday and this dying, blood-soaked woman on the gurney were the same person.

In the ER, specialists gathered around Dr. Lee, their faces grim.

I weakly tugged on Dr. Lee’s white coat.

He leaned down, patting my hand. "Kid, don't be afraid. We have a backup plan."

"Will I... get better?" My voice was a whisper.

"Don't worry! You'll be able to take care of yourself!" He tried to give me hope.

I smiled and shook my head. I gathered my strength to speak clearly.

"Dr. Lee, I refuse treatment."

Through the glass, the doctors looked at me in shock.

"You're young! Child, while there's life, there's hope!"

"I, Evangeline Dubois, can die. But I will not... live pathetically." I spoke slowly, firmly. "I. Refuse. Treatment."

I looked out the window, as if I could see through the walls to where he was.

"Downstairs... the man you bumped into. Julian Devereaux. He promised... to collect my body."

I had lived a wild life. My hands were stained with blood, my heart full of hate. It was enough.

I had no children. No parents.

I could stay, or I could go.