Cruel Words, Crimson Flames.

Liora sat numbly on the floor, staring at the door.

There was no response. No knock. No sound. Just silence pressing against her chest like a weight.

And then... a shadow flickered at the entrance.

She blinked, thinking she imagined it, but her heart jolted when the figure stepped into view.

"Who's there?" Liora asked, struggling to push herself up, her voice weak.

The figure moved closer.

Her breath caught as the door creaked open.

It was Lilith.

Without so much as a knock, she entered the room like it belonged to her. Their eyes met.

Liora quickly pushed herself up from the floor. Her legs trembled, but she kept her posture steady.

Her voice was firm, despite the confusion storming inside her. "What are you doing in my room?"

Lilith didn't answer.

Instead, she gave Liora a slow, judgmental once-over—from her bare feet to her face—like she was assessing something beneath her notice.

"I don't want to talk right now," Liora said calmly. "Please… go back to your room. I want to be alone."

Lilith suddenly laughed.

A high, mocking laugh that echoed too loudly in the stillness of the room.

"Haha… Alone? Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to laugh," she said, covering her mouth—but the cruel gleam in her eyes betrayed her apology. "But really, that was too funny."

Liora frowned, confused. "I didn't give you permission to enter my room," she said, her voice lower now, tight with restraint. "Please leave."

Lilith's eyes widened with mock surprise. Then she smirked. "Permission?" Lilith tilted her head. "Pffft... sorry again, but are you seriously saying things like that with a straight face? I can't stop laughing."

"What are you even talking about?" Liora asked, hurt and bewildered.

Lilith stepped closer, the warmth usually radiating from her healing aura now absent. Her maroon eyes were cold—unfamiliar. Her pink-tinged hair shimmered under the lantern light, but her expression was anything but kind.

"Look at you," Lilith sneered. "So naive. So pitiful. Hiding in this room like a prisoner."

She stepped closer. Her shadow loomed.

"You said I didn't have permission?" Her voice turned mocking. "Who do you think you are, Liora? Who are you to give me permission?"

Liora stiffened.

She had never seen Lilith like this. The girl who always smiled so brightly… now looked like a stranger. Her words cut like knives.

"I don't understand…" Liora whispered, her voice trembling. "Why are you saying these things?"

When she reached out to touch Lilith's wrist, hoping to calm her or find answers, Lilith jerked her hand back sharply.

"Don't touch me!" she snapped. "What—are you hoping to absorb some of my healing power? Is that it? Because you don't have any?"

Liora recoiled as if struck.

"Stop… I don't understand any of this," she said, her voice small. "If you don't have anything important to say, then please just leave…"

But Lilith wasn't finished.

"I'll leave when I want," she said coldly. "You know what? I'm tired of pretending. Of putting up with you and your little act. But I'll explain everything so you can finally get it through your thick skull."

"What...?" Liora whispered.

Lilith smiled. That eerie, slow kind of smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Hey, Liora… don't you get tired of this miserable life?" Lilith's tone turned sweet—mockingly so. "No one wants you here. No one visits you. No one asks about you. That's why you're always alone in this room. You don't belong in this house."

Liora's mouth fell open in disbelief, her composure crumbling.

"Why should you be here?" Lilith pressed. "You don't deserve love, or attention, or anything. You sit in this room waiting for people who never come. Isn't it pathetic?"

Liora shook her head, her voice cracking. "This is my home. Why would I leave? Who are you to say these things?"

Lilith laughed again. "Who am I? I am the future young lady of this house."

She walked in a slow circle around Liora like a predator.

" Everyone likes me. Your father, your brothers… even your fiancé. Oh, wait— I mean Lucien. Except he wants me now, not you. You're just in the way."

Liora felt her heart twist violently in her chest. She stared at her, eyes wide.

"You keep trying so hard," Lilith went on, voice mocking. "Trying to earn love, respect… but it's useless. You're just… background noise. A sad, unwanted child."

Liora's hands curled into fists, but she still said nothing.

Lilith's words poured out like venom now.

"When you were in a coma, everything was perfect," she hissed. "I used to pray—every single morning that you'd never wake up. That's how peaceful things were. Everyone started noticing me. But now? You're back. And suddenly people pity you again. Talk about how hardworking you are. They sympathize with you."

She took a breath, then added with pure contempt, "Every time I get close to becoming part of this family, you return. With your fake, teary eyes. Gaining sympathy. Like some tragic little doll. And I have to start from scratch."

Liora stood frozen, every word searing into her heart.

Lilith stepped closer, her voice growing louder. "You're unbearable. Even Renald said it—you're bad luck. Everyone keeps their distance for a reason."

Liora's tears welled up, her throat tightening.

"Oh look," Lilith said with a smirk, "you're crying. How predictable. Trying to win sympathy again?"

She turned toward the door but stopped halfway.

Looking back over her shoulder, she added coldly, "Don't ever hope that anyone will choose you. Not your family. Not Lucien. No one. Over me."

Then she let out a quiet, cruel chuckle, turned the handle, and slammed the door behind her as she left.

The sound echoed like thunder in the silence that followed.

Liora stood there, frozen. Her vision blurred from tears. Her hands trembling.

Then… she laughed.

A hollow, broken laugh.

"So now… even strangers can come into my room and say those things," she whispered.

She fell face-down onto the bed, hugging her pillow tightly, trying to hold herself together.

But her thoughts wouldn't stop spinning.

Suddenly, something sharp and acrid stung her nose.

Smoke.

Thick and sudden.

Liora coughed.

She lifted her head, eyes wide, and looked around—her room was slowly filling with smoke. Flames danced at the corners of her furniture. The fire was spreading.

Panicked, she stumbled off the bed and cried out as pain shot up her leg. Her foot had twisted. She collapsed with a scream.

The fire roared louder. The smoke thickened.

She crawled desperately to the window—but she was on the second floor. Her foot throbbed with pain. Panic set in.

She couldn't jump. She couldn't walk.

"Help…!" she called hoarsely, her voice barely audible through the smoke.

The flames crept closer. Heat pressed against her skin. Her breaths came in short, gasping bursts.

And then—she heard it.

Voices.

Someone shouting.

A crash.

The door burst open.

Light flooded in through the smoke.

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