7#07

7

Leslie regained consciousness after thirty minutes of urgent care.

The first sight she encountered was Travis. Despite herself, she felt let down initially, then resigned.

'Naturally, Denver wouldn't bother to stick around,' she mused with acceptance.

"I appreciate it, Travis," Leslie murmured.

"What a nuisance," Travis grumbled, dusting off his trousers as he rose to fetch the physician.

The doctor performed a brief examination and stated, "She's recovered now. Just monitor her eating habits and keep allergy medication on hand."

However, Travis's attention was elsewhere—likely focused on Kiana. He hastily helped Leslie up and began marching towards the car park.

"There's a situation at the house. Can you pick up the pace?" he inquired irritably.

Still unsteady from her recent awakening, Leslie lost her footing. Her legs buckled, causing her to tumble and scrape her knees.

Travis halted, his composure crumbling like a house of cards. "Leslie, why must you always be such a burden?"

Leslie's chest constricted, her eyes stung, but she held back her tears.

'Is this truly the same boy I once knew?' she pondered. 'The one who would fuss over the tiniest cut on my foot and insist on carrying me?'

She pressed her hands against her knees and pushed herself upright. Her knees ached, but it wasn't the physical pain that hurt most. She realized she'd lost to Kiana—yet she couldn't fathom why.

"Travis," she said, her voice quavering, "please just tell me the reason. Why does everyone favor Kiana? Why do you despise me so much?"

With his hands thrust in his pockets, Travis cast her a frigid look.

"Kiana was raised with us in the same orphanage.

We were separated due to an incident, and my brother searched for her for sixteen years.

If it weren't for you, Kiana would have wed my brother! She could have become my sister-in-law soon!

We could have had a joyful existence—ideal, really.

But you? You destroyed it all!"

His words struck like blows, each one more crushing than the last. He lashed out at a nearby tree, his anger boiling over, oblivious to Leslie's visible flinch.

"So that's how it is," she said, her voice breaking. "I understand now."

She compelled herself to stand taller. "You can leave. I just... need to walk alone for a bit."

He didn't hesitate. Without another word, he got into Denver's vehicle, revved the engine, and left Leslie standing there.

The streets were silent and deserted that night.

Leslie wandered aimlessly, Travis's words echoing in her mind like a broken record.

'Orphanage... like family... separated...'

Unfamiliar recollections suddenly assaulted her. Images she didn't recognize flickered in and out.

Her head throbbed. She grasped a streetlight, her breathing becoming increasingly rapid.

'Happily ever after. Never parting.'

In her mind, she saw visions of three children, making a pinky promise under a tree.

'Forever,' they said. 'No matter what.'

Leslie blinked hard, trying to cling to the memory, but the hazy images of the children disappeared.

Even the illumination from the streetlamps seemed to dim.

Everything went black as Leslie collapsed by the roadside.

Then she dreamed—bizarre yet vivid.

She was six years old, following a charming boy up a hill.

He was chuckling, his voice bright and enthusiastic. "Kiana, look! I discovered an emerald!"

'Kiana? Is he addressing me?' Leslie wondered.

The boy settled on the ground, legs crossed, and began polishing the green gem he held.

He worked for what seemed like an eternity until the emerald transformed into a smooth pendant, shaped like a lock. He threaded a red string through it and placed it around her neck—or was it Kiana's?

The following morning, Kiana visited Leslie in the hospital.

Upon seeing Leslie lying unconscious on the bed, Kiana burst into tears.

Denver was at her side, his voice soothing. "Shh. She's alright now. Just exhausted and resting."

He gently stroked her hair, but as his fingers grazed a red string around Kiana's neck, something emerged—an emerald pendant, smooth and polished.