The screen lit up again.
Jerry Kingston calling…
Mira stared at it with trembling fingers.
Again.
And again.
The soft vibrations of her phone felt louder than anything in her quiet penthouse.
Jerry was calling nonstop. Mira's tears fell as her lips trembled. She clutched the iPad, watching her from afar, guilt heavy on her chest. "I don't deserve to answer this… I don't have the right," she whispered to herself.
The call ended. Then began again.
Jerry Kingston calling…
Mira didn't pick up. She couldn't.
She simply cried.
Inside the Hospital Room
The door creaked open, and Jerry's weak eyes lit up with hope.
"Mira?" she breathed, barely audible.
But it wasn't her.
It was her assistant, carrying a tray of warm food.
Jerry's face fell like glass hitting concrete.
"No appetite again?" her assistant asked gently, forcing a smile. "You haven't eaten all day."
"I said I don't want to!" Jerry suddenly shouted, her voice echoing. "Just leave me alone!"
Her assistant flinched, pain flashing across her eyes. She placed the tray on the side table and quietly walked out, shutting the door.
Click.
Locked again.
Jerry closed her eyes and leaned back, her heart thudding dully. She stared at the ceiling, suffocating in the silence.
Mira, watching everything on the iPad, reached out to the screen.
"No… Jerry, don't do this," she whispered.
She watched in horror as Jerry tried to sit up. Mira jumped to her feet.
"Jerry, no! What are you doing?" her voice cracked in panic.
But Jerry was determined.
Four months of lying still had taken away all her strength, but not her stubbornness.
Her hands trembled. Legs weak. But she moved. Slowly. Painfully. Like a superstar trying to rise from ashes with nothing but raw willpower.
One foot touched the ground. Then the other. She stumbled. Her face twisted in pain.
Mira cried out, helpless from behind the screen. "Stop! You're hurting yourself!"
Jerry's knees buckled—but she refused to fall.
She dragged herself toward the landline phone across the room. Sweat drenched her pale forehead. Her fingers clutched the table. She dialed the one number she remembered even in her dreams.
Mira Langford.
And she called.
It rang.
And rang.
Mira stared at the name flashing on her screen, crying so hard she couldn't breathe. She touched the screen with shaking fingers, whispering, "Jerry… I'm so sorry… I love you…"
But she didn't answer.
On the hospital side, Jerry's eyes slowly closed as she whispered:
"…I just wanted to hear your voice."
Her body gave out. She collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
"JERRY!"
The door burst open.
Her assistant screamed, kneeling beside her. "Doctor! Call the doctor—she's fainted again! Hurry!"
Meanwhile…
Mira curled up on her couch, hugging the iPad like a lifeline, as Jerry's body was lifted from the cold floor by nurses. Doctors rushed to stabilize her.
Mira buried her face into the cushions, sobbing like a broken soul.
She didn't see the last flicker of Jerry's lips before falling unconscious:
"Mira… I'm still yours…"
A bright morning sun lit the hospital room, but Jerry sat in silence, her eyes hollow as ever.
The door opened, and in came Mr. Kingston, not alone—but with a pretty young woman holding flowers and lunchboxes.
"Jerry," Mr. Kingston smiled faintly, "Look who's here. Your childhood friend."
The girl rushed forward and wrapped her arms around the motionless Jerry.
"Sara?" Jerry blinked, a forced smile curling on her lips. "You're here?"
Sara kissed her forehead. "Of course. Anything for you."
Jerry's smile disappeared. She gently pulled away, her voice flat. "Don't… don't do that."
From the iPad screen, Mira saw it all—her chest aching with every second.
Mr. Kingston glanced toward the camera, his eyes cold. He knew Mira was watching. He didn't say a word, but his gaze said everything: You gave this up.
Sara seemed to notice the shift. From then on, she kept her distance, trying to talk casually as she placed the food down.
"Say aaah," Sara teased, offering a spoonful.
Jerry froze. In her mind, Mira's voice echoed:
"Baby, say ahhh…"
Her chest cracked.
She closed her eyes—and cried. For the first time in days. Weeks.
"SHE'S MINE!" Jerry shouted, voice trembling. "I love her! Do you hear me?! MIRA IS MINE!"
On the other side of the city, Mira dropped the iPad, her knees collapsing.
She couldn't take it anymore.
Still holding the screen showing Jerry crying out for her, she ran.
At the Hospital Entrance
The guards blocked her.
"You're not allowed in—"
"Move!" Mira screamed, eyes wild with pain.
Jerry's assistant ran over. "Miss Mira, if you do this, you know what will happen. You're banned."
Mira stepped closer, her voice like thunder, "I am Jerry Kingston's wife. If she finds out you kept me away, she'll fire you all with a look."
From inside, Jerry's faint voice echoed—
"Mira…?"
Mira's eyes widened.
She ran.
Inside the Room
Jerry sat up, tears on her face, breathing uneven.
The door burst open.
Mira stood there—messy hair, dark circles under her eyes, face pale from sleepless nights. She was trembling, the iPad still in her hand.
Sara stood stunned, watching the ghost-like woman storming in.
"Mira…" Jerry whispered, her voice breaking.
Mira didn't wait.