Chapter 8
419words
I still remember the day I died. I had just found out about Susanna's flight details. Despite everything, I needed to see her one last time, just to catch a glimpse. I told myself I would not approach her and would not even let her see me. It was just for closure.
Fate had other plans, though. A truck lost control, smashing through the guardrail as it headed right for me. The pain hit like a freight train—my body felt like it was tearing apart, my organs rupturing. I knew it was the end.
In the hospital, as I lay dying with my parents by my side, I confessed the truth about the scheme York and I had concocted.
"If Susanna ever comes back, don't tell her. Let her think I broke her heart. She's too good, too kind. The truth will only hurt her more."
I never imagined she would hate me so much that she would come back to destroy my family. If I had known, I would have told them to reveal everything. Now, their suffering was on me, and it weighed heavy on my soul.
Susanna let out a scornful laugh, pulling me back to the present. "Dead? That's the best you've got? Try harder next time. Matthew left me to save his own skin. A guy like that wouldn't just drop dead."
I was truly gone, though. Gone for good.
"No way. Even if he's dead, I'll dig him out of his grave myself!" Her eyes blazed with fury, and she kicked dad hard in the chest. He crumpled, coughing up blood and gasping for air.
"He's done too much damage," she spat. "He worked with kidnappers, sent thugs to the hospital to torment me, and drove my father to his grave."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. What was she talking about? I never did anything like that.
"He can't just die and get away with it. He owes me. He owes my dad." Her voice was a mixture of rage and grief, her body trembling with the weight of her hatred.
