Chapter 240

Audrey

I stepped through the doors of the children’s ward, and the weight of the world settled on my shoulders. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of machines and the occasional murmur of low voices, the lights dim and surprisingly peaceful.

And then I saw her.

At the far end of the room, cradled by her parents’ arms, their faces streaked with tears, was Ivy. The little girl from the charity gala.

She looked so small in that bed, her tiny body dwarfed by the stark white sheets, her face pale and drawn. Her parents sat on either side of her, clinging to each other, grief etched into every line of their faces.

They had clearly been there for hours, days maybe, watching their daughter fade away.

“I-Ivy?” I whispered, taking a hesitant step forward.

Her mother snapped her head up first, her swollen eyes meeting mine across the dimly lit room. There was a moment of recognition-her mouth parted slightly in disbelief, her lips trembling.

“You’re… you’re the Silver Star,” she breathed. “You came…”

Inodded slowly, although I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze for long. Shame twisted painfully inside of me like a knife in my chest. I turned my eyes to Ivy, who lay so still, her breath shallow and uneven.

“What happened?” I whispered. The little girl had seemed okay at the gala just a couple of days ago-not healthy, of course, but awake and lucid and able to walk around on her own.

But now… she looked on

the

verge

of death.

Ivy’s father cleared his throat, his voice thick with tears. “After the gala…” he began, his words halting as if he was choking on each one. “She collapsed on the stairs. Hit her head on the way down. Between the blood loss and the cancer…. they don’t think she’ll make it through the night.”

His voice cracked, the last words barely escaping his throat.

“I should have carried her,” he whimpered.

on her own. She was

hot, acrid taste of bile rising in my throat. The memory of that little girl’s hopeful face at the gala flashed through my mind-the way she had looked up at me with so much trust, asking if I could

lied. To protect myself.

like this, I wondered if it had been worth the cost. If giving her false hope

wide and pleading. “Can you help her?” she asked softly, her voice trembling

a punch to the gut. The shame I had been trying to

Chapter 240

I lied. I hadn’t shifted yet. I was afraid, and I

in their eyes extinguished in an instant. I thought I might

14%

of the damage, “I have shifted now. And

just stared at me, uncertainty and pain flickering across their faces. Then Ivy’s father slowly nodded, and her mother followed suit, clutching her daughter’s hand

Ivy’s father

+5

a breath, steadying myself, even though my heart raced. This was different from before. This was real. I couldn’t make

last time, “from this moment forward, I will never lie to you again. No matter the

who’d been silently standing in the doorway,

closer to Ivy, my knees almost buckling underneath me. I was exhausted, so exhausted that

my hand. on her forehead. Her skin was cold to the

reaching deep inside of myself for the silver energy that had become a part of me in such a short amount of time. It responded more easily than I thought it would, surging forward like a river breaking through

sense the cancer in her body

like healing Peter’s silver poisoning. This was different-harder. The cancer was a stubborn thing, deeply rooted and pervasive, resisting every

tremble. But I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop. Slowly, agonizingly, I felt

Ivy’s eyes fluttered open. Her face, once pale and drawn, was now brighter, her eyes clearer than I had ever seen them. A smile spread across her face, weak but

she whispered.

my body drained of energy. It was only then that I realized that Edwin had moved to me while I

should go,” he whispered, giving me a gentle tug. “You’ve done

sight of Ivy, alive

Empty.

others suffering, their faces etched with the same pain that Ivy had endured. I couldn’t

Oct

Chapter 240

have to help them all,”

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