<b>Chapter </b><b>21 </b>


    The shot was dead–on.


    Caught her square in the forehead.


    Blood welled up so fast, it made her tumble down the stairs that morning look tame by


    Frank stared in shock, his body moving before his mind could catch up.


    He shoved Elissa away, anger ring in his voice, cold andced with disappointment. “What the hell are you doing? Elissa, was all that sweetness and kindness just an act?”


    Elissa crashed to the floor, stunned by the sudden force. She met his using gaze,


    dazed and silent.


    He was right.


    It had all been an act.


    But this time, she was done pretending.


    Frank hadn’t expected her to be so fragile, not after everything she’d been through. The realization made him pause.


    Marcia clutched her forehead, her voice trembling with tears. “Frankie! It hurts so much–I’m bleeding everywhere…”


    He couldn’t think about anything else. Sweeping Marcia into his arms, he hurried out of


    the room.


    Just before he left, Frank nced back, worry flickering in his eyes.


    That single look hit him like a punch <i>to </i>the gut.


    There she was–the girl who’d once promised to marry him–staring at him with eyes as clear as ck and white, but now utterly devoid of feeling.


    Not even the bare politeness you’d give a stranger.


    The IV bottle smashed against the floor, yanking the needle from her hand.


    Bright blood streamed down Elissa’s pale, slender wrist, dripping steadily.


    She barely seemed to notice. Instead, she gripped the bedframe, knuckles nched, fighting her way to her feet. Her thin body swayed, but she refused to let go.


    13:31


    That’s the moment Tanya Foster walked in.


    She startled, rushing over to press a wad of gauze against Elissa’s bleeding hand, steadying her with the other. “What on earth happened? You’re bleeding all over, and you didn’t even call for a nurse–what were you thinking?”


    What was she thinking?


    Elissa gave a faint, bitter smile.


    She was thinking–it wasn’t worth it.


    Three years of genuine feeling, and in the end, maybe none of it was worth it.


    Tanya frowned, helping her back onto the bed. “What’s going on? Edna called and said you were pushed down the stairs?”


    Elissa forced herself to focus, lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah. But I already got my revenge.”


    “What?”


    “I split Marcia’s head open.”


    She nodded toward the broken ss on the floor. “That’s the weapon.”


    Tanya acted like she hadn’t heard. She wiped up the blood on the IV bottle with an alcohol pad and tossed it in the trash. “Weapon? Please. It’s just an IV bottle that slipped and broke<i>, </i>nothing more.”


    Elissa gave a wry, colorlessugh. “If I ever killed someone, would you help me dispose of the murder weapon this calmly?”


    “No,” Tanya said, dead serious after a moment’s thought. “I’d help you hide the body first.”


    Elissa stared, slightly impressed.


    But the thing Tanya feared never happened.


    Days passed, and <i>no </i>police ever showed up at her hospital room. Marcia never filed a


    report.


    Cliff stopped by a few times when his schedule allowed, checking in on Elissa.


    He always gave her a few acupuncture treatments.


    A few dayster, after the doctor finished his rounds, he nced at her chart, surprised. “You’re recovering fast. That was a nasty fall, but you’re nearly healed already.”


    “You’ll be ready to go home in a day or two. But remember–no strenuous activity for a while. You need time to heal.”


    13:32


    “Doctor, I’d like to be discharged tomorrow,” Elissa said.


    “Tomorrow?”


    “Yes, I have something important to do.”


    She’d studied medicine at her mentor’s side for over a decade. Her mentor and Jacqueline had always treated her well.


    She couldn’t break a promise to her teacher.


    “All right,” the doctor agreed.


    He checked the wound on her forehead and carefully removed the stitches. “It’s lucky your hairline will cover the scar. Otherwise, you’d have a mark right in the middle of your


    forehead.”


    Only a female doctor, Elissa thought, would worry about that for her patient.


    Elissa smiled. “A scar doesn’t bother me.”


    First, she truly didn’t care.


    Second, she was good at getting rid of scars.


    “Oh, but you should care.” The doctor’s tone turned yful. “Such a pretty face–what a waste it would be to leave a mark.”


    “Exactly!” the nurse chimed in with augh. “By the way, your chart says you’re married. Howe we haven’t seen your husband once this whole time? Doesn’t he worry about you at all?”


    Elissa let out a softugh. “Him? He’s busy.”