Chapter 3

The ice was thin near the edge.

Amy's teeth chattered. Each breath was a stab of cold.

She took off her flimsy heels, her bare feet hitting the frozen ground.

She waded in. The water was shockingly cold, up to her knees.

It bit into her skin, a burning, numbing pain.

She reached for the earring, her fingers clumsy with cold.

The guests watched, some with pity, some with amusement.

Ethan watched, his face unreadable.

She got the earring, her hand blue.

She handed it to Jessica, water dripping from her dress, her body shaking violently.

Jessica took it, a triumphant glint in her eyes.

"Thank you, darling." She then "accidentally" dropped it onto the stone paving. It shattered. "Oh, clumsy me. It was just a cheap replica anyway."

She laughed lightly and walked away on Ethan's arm.

Ethan spared Amy a brief, indifferent glance. "Get yourself cleaned up. You're a mess."

He turned his attention back to his guests.

Amy stood there, soaked, freezing, humiliated.

The pain in her abdomen flared, sharp and vicious.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, found a hidden corner, and swallowed two of her pain pills.

She had to keep going. This was part of it.

A few weeks later, a company retreat. Upstate New York.

Amy was forced to staff the event.

Jessica, with a sweet smile, had overseen the catering.

Every dish. Every single one. Contained shellfish or nuts.

Amy was severely allergic. Ethan knew this. He'd once rushed her to the ER after an accidental exposure.

Now, he watched as she picked at a dry bread roll, her only safe option.

He said nothing. Offered no alternative.

His silence was an endorsement of Jessica's cruelty.

Amy's stomach cramped. She felt the familiar itchiness at the back of her throat.

She excused herself, her heart pounding.

This was for Liv. She repeated it like a mantra. This pain, this suffering, it was for Liv.

Then came the impossible errand.

A storm raged outside, sleet and freezing rain.

Ethan called her. His voice was curt.

"Jessica needs some files for her presentation. They're at the old downtown archive. Get them. Now."

The archive was a dangerous, semi-abandoned building.

"The presentation is in an hour," he added. "Don't be late."

Amy's body screamed in protest. She was weak, feverish.

But she went.

The journey was a nightmare. Public transport was a mess. Taxis were scarce.

She walked miles in the biting wind and freezing rain.

She found the archive, navigated the dark, crumbling corridors.

She got the files.

She rushed back, her lungs burning, her vision blurring.

She arrived at Ethan's office, five minutes late, soaked and shaking.

Jessica looked up from her phone, bored.

"Oh, those files? We don't need them anymore. Found a backup."

She waved a dismissive hand.

Ethan watched Amy, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He said nothing.

Amy felt something inside her snap.

She turned to leave, her legs unsteady.

As she stepped out into the storm, a wave of dizziness hit her.

Headlights. A screech of tires.

Then, blackness.

She felt a strange sense of peace as darkness enveloped her. Snowflakes, or maybe just the rain, on her face.

Tears of relief. It was finally over.

David Miller was at Mount Sinai when they brought her in.

He'd been checking on another patient. He recognized her immediately.

"Amy!" He rushed to her side, his face pale with shock.

Her clothes were torn, blood matted her hair. She was unconscious.

He barked orders, his medical training kicking in.

Her cancer, he knew, would be raging, aggravated by the trauma, the constant stress.

He found her phone, scrolled through recent calls. Ethan.

He dialed.

"Ethan Carter."

"You need to come to Mount Sinai. Now." David's voice was raw. "It's Amy. She was in an accident. This is your last chance to see her."

A pause. Then Ethan's cynical voice. "Another drama, Miller? What is it this time?"

Amy stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She saw David on the phone.

She mouthed Ethan's name, a question in her eyes.

David nodded, his expression grim.

Amy shook her head weakly. Gestured for him to hang up.

She didn't want him to see her like this. Defeated. Broken.

David ended the call, his heart heavy.

Miraculously, after a few critical hours, her vital signs stabilized. Slightly.