A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Chapter 107

Matilda was caught in the tendrils of a dream that seemed to stretch on endlessly.

In this dream, she was the beloved daughter of the prestigious Thompson family, her grace and elegance unmatched. Gideon, her older brother, was the very definition of dashing, with a

charm that attracted the city’s elite like moths to a flame.

It was Gideon’s birthday, and in the dream, Matilda was 25, Gideon 27. The siblings stood side by side, epitomizing closeness. Their parents were the picture of health and happiness; the family of four was a paradigm of domestic bliss.

In the dream, Matilda’s laughter rang out so heartily it was as if she was using up a lifetime’s worth of joy.

When she awoke, she found herself in an unfamiliar hospital bed, still Matilda, but every ounce. of warmth and affection dissipated the moment her eyes opened.

The final frame of her dream lingered on Gideon’s face before it began to crack down the middle, splintering like a shattered glass pane, bit by bit. The familiar smile and voice of her brother were carved apart by those fractures, crumbling into nothingness.

Matilda looked around in panic. She was in a private hospital room, jolting awake as if from at nightmare, her complexion ghostly pale.

Silence enveloped her, so profound it seemed to swallow even the echo of her own breath.

an overwhelming sense of solitude, as if she were the last person

in her arm dislodged by the movement, swelling into a small bump on

Gideon…

gasped

torn apart. How Matilda wished she could faint, to escape the sharp,

door, flooding the room with light. “What are you doing? Have you

sheets. But the wound was small, and the bleeding soon. stopped. With no desire to clean it

allure, but now his

you…” Yvan’s voice

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10:27

Chapter

of fierce energy, she pushed Yvan away and bolted down the hallway, running as if against

backward, toward

reached–the morgue.