One day passed.
Jerry had disappeared.
No messages. No calls. No note.
The Kingston estate was in chaos, and everyone was tense—especially Mira. She hadn't slept, hadn't eaten. Her phone didn't leave her hand. Every second she looked at it, willing it to ring. Just once.
Evening fell.
The phone finally lit up.
Mira's breath hitched. "Jerry?"
But it wasn't her voice.
"Miss Langford, this is Jerry's assistant. Please… can you come to the Kingston estate right now? Miss. Kingston—she's drunk. She's destroying everything… and she keeps screaming things that… I think only you should hear."
Mira didn't even wait to respond.
She grabbed her coat over her silk pajamas, slipped into her slippers, and dashed out of the house. Her long dark hair flew behind her, brushing the curves of her lower back, swaying with every frantic step. The only thing she could think was—
"Please don't be too late."
At the Kingston estate.
Rain clung to the windows. Thunder rolled in the distance.
Mira pushed open the front door. The echoes of glass breaking and a voice—Jerry's voice—sliced through the halls.
Mira ran toward the grand corridor, breath heavy, heart pounding.
She paused just outside the hallway, where she saw her.
Jerry stood barefoot in broken glass, blood trailing from her soles. Her hair was messy, shirt half untucked, eyes swollen from tears. Her knuckles were bleeding, and her body swayed as she yelled at the man standing still—her grandfather.
"You want to know why I hate being called 'heir' to the Kingston family?"
"I was eight! Eight years old! I had no one left!"
"You hired a damn caretaker who poisoned my food, and you never noticed! You cared more about your company than your granddaughter!"
Mira's eyes widened. Her whole body shook.
Jerry didn't see her yet. She was lost in pain—raw, guttural pain that had been buried for years.
"I ate my friends' leftover food. I starved on nights no one cared. I begged for scraps in my own house. Everyone wanted me gone because I was just a reminder of your failure. But I'm human, dammit! It hurt me too!"
Suddenly, her voice cracked, and her knees buckled.
"It still hurts..." she whispered, crumpling slowly to the floor. "...it still hurts every damn day."
Her grandfather stood frozen, trembling, speechless. The weight of what he'd ignored crashing down in front of him.
Mira ran in, tears streaming down her face. She dropped to her knees beside Jerry, gently cupping her face.
"Jerry—baby—look at me."
Jerry's eyes were half-closed, wet from crying, her lips trembling. "He didn't care…"
"I know," Mira whispered, voice breaking. "I know now… and I'm sorry I didn't see it before."
Jerry passed out soon after, her body giving in to exhaustion.
Later, in Jerry's bedroom.
Mira sat quietly beside Jerry's sleeping form, gently wiping the blood from her feet and the tears from her own eyes. Her hands trembled, trying to stay calm—but her soul was breaking piece by piece watching the woman she loved so shattered.
Suddenly, Jerry stirred.
Her lips parted, voice barely audible, but every word pierced through Mira's heart like knives.
"I was in the car… with my parents that day…"
Mira froze, her eyes wide with shock.
"I watched them die. I survived, but… I think I died too."
"So I don't feel that pain. I wash it away every day."
"But it never leaves…"
A pause. Then, Jerry's eyes opened slowly, glistening with unshed tears as she clutched her chest.
"She doesn't love me," she whispered brokenly.
"I forced her. I forced her to stay. I forced her to be with me. I'm the monster…"
Her hand gripped her shirt tightly over her heart, her voice breaking completely.
"My heart is bleeding… it hurts…"
And then she sobbed—raw, uncontrollable, helpless sobs—shaking like a child.
Mira couldn't take it.
She cried out, collapsing beside her, clutching Jerry's face in both hands.
"No! No, you didn't force me! I love you! I LOVE YOU!" she screamed, tears flooding down her cheeks.
But Jerry didn't answer. Her eyes shut again. Silent. Lost in the weight of it all.
Mira buried her face against her chest, shaking violently.
"I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry I hurt you…"
Outside, the wind whispered like ghosts.
Inside, pain echoed louder.
Two broken hearts, bleeding into the night—still together, but dangerously close to falling apart.