Chapter 37

Claire stared intently at Irene. "Irene, it's me, Claire," she said softly.

"You despise me so much, I'm sure you can recognize my voice, right?"

"I've heard that some people in a coma can have some level of awareness. I wonder if you can hear me now."

"If you can, when will you finally wake up?"

Claire rambled on, her words filling the air, but the person lying in the bed showed no sign of response.

The antiseptic smell permeated the hospital room, mingling with the stark whiteness of the walls and bedsheets, which only accentuated Irene's frail, skeletal frame.

Claire slowly sat down by the bedside, her eyes never leaving Irene's pale face.

the one who hurt you, but I'm innocent. No

and in that time, I took

how horrible it was. They jabbed me with needles, beat me with sticks, and even took one of my kidneys... all under the

unable to chase away

envied you

nothing more than a

Vanessa who hurt you,

wave of overwhelming injustice washed over her, and Claire's tears

that Irene's eyes had flickered ever so

up. "Irene, you need to get better soon. I'll come back

the room, she found herself staring

black suit, his tall and imposing figure exuding an air of authority. His features were chiseled and handsome, yet hard and unyielding-thick eyebrows arched toward

gaze from him sent shivers down Claire's spine. Her legs grew weak, and every muscle in her body tensed

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