Chapter 7
I didn’t die.
Rourke Tower-thirty-three stories high-had been Cassian’s wedding gift to me, and I knew every inch of its design.
I crashed onto the lightning rod platform on the thirty-first floor, the impact slamming through my body and leaving every organ screaming in pain.
The livestream phone stayed up on the rooftop.
But a fall like that still drew attention.
Rescue workers came down on ropes and landed on the platform, trying to get me to go back up.
I refused, standing there while the streets below filled with people and drones surrounded me, every camera locked on my body.
Above me, their voices carried down-tight, controlled, almost rehearsed-as they faced the cameras and the world, holding up the contracts I had “signed.”
“Everything was conducted within legal boundaries. We had licensed psychologists on set at all
times. This wasn’t true isolation like Robinson Crusoe, so we didn’t detect any issues with Aurelia
Vance’s mental state.”
Every scream I had made, every moment I had broken down, every ounce of pain I endured-
twisted into proof that I was unstable.
That I had lost control.
The weight of it crushed me.
I saw the island again. The seedlings I planted, trampled into the dirt. The faint movement of the life inside me, gone after a single blackout.
My vision blurred, darkness creeping in, and I was back there-building fires with my own hands, shaping clay into pots, weaving baskets strand by strand, carving tally marks into stone to count the days.
I built a raft. Tried to leave three times.
Every time, I fought like hell just to stay alive.
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They forgot something.
I was never someone who waited to die.
“In high school, I used a full scholarship to support kids in rural communities. In college, I spent everything I earned on rescue programs for stray animals. After I became an actress, I donated eighty percent of my income every year to children with critical illnesses.”
I couldn’t see the comments anymore.
It didn’t matter.
The sun rose slowly behind me, and when I looked down, past the crowd gathered below, cars
moved like tiny beetles along the streets, and people-no bigger than ants-went on with their
lives.
I smiled.
“I love pushing forward. I love taking risks. I love life, and I respect it. I respect every person who fights to keep going, every person who works hard just to live.”
“My identity as a Vance heir only became public after I married Cassian, and on that same day, everyone learned the truth-I was never really their daughter. I never used that name to hurt
anyone,
and I never did anything to Delphine out of jealousy.”
“The accusations they threw at me shouldn’t be mine to disprove. They should be the ones showing
evidence.”
I took a breath, my voice steady.
“When did I target her? Where? With whom? How did I contact these so-called criminals? Where are they now? Did the Vance family or the Rourke family ever bring them to justice? Or are they too
afraid to face me?”
Every word landed clean.
No hysteria. No confusion.
The noise below faded. Even the voices above went silent.
A young rescuer stepped forward carefully, extending his hand toward me.
“I believe you, Aurelia,” he said quietly. “Because I was one of the kids you helped back then.”
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