Chapter 7
That night, Rachel came down with a high fever and lay unconscious for two days before her mind began to clear.
At her bedside sat Benjamin. When he saw her open her forehead. “The fever’s finally gone down a little.”
her eyes,
he touched
She just stared blankly at the ceiling, silent no matter what he said–until he murmured, “Rachel, don’t worry too much. I’ll make sure your voice is cured.”
Her gaze shifted toward him. She tried to speak, but no sound came out, only a burning pain in her throat.
Seeing her panic, he patted her hand gently. “The fever was too high, your throat got inflamed,
inflamed, and your vocal cords were damaged. You just
need a minor surgery. It’ll be fine.”
His certainty steadied her nerves.
Three days later, she had a performance. She pushed through with a pain- numbing injection and barely managed to finish the show.
The band members hadn’t seen her in days, so they clamored for a dinner together. She declined, saying she had surgery scheduled the next morning.
They were disappointed but let it go. “We’ll celebrate after that. There’s always time.”
“I’m leaving,” she told them softly. “My flight is in five days.”
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Her words stunned everyone. After a long silence, someone finally asked, “But… isn’t your wedding in six days? We already got the invitations.”
She lowered her head. “It’s not happening. Just pretend you never got them.”
The room fell quiet. They all knew how deeply she loved Benjamin.
She gave a small smile and playfully nudged the nearest person. “What’s with the long faces? You’re always saying marriage is a graveyard–I’m just choosing not to step in. Cheer up. I’m not giving up on singing. At this point, it’s all I have left.” The last words were barely audible.
Her sincerity put them somewhat at ease.
“Rachel, you’d better come back to visit us, okay? Don’t just disappear forever.”
At that moment, a hand tightened around hers. Benjamin’s low voice. sounded in her ear. “Where are you going?”
He had come to pick her up.
She didn’t answer, just bid her bandmates goodbye and got in his car. He asked again, and this time she said, “I’m leaving the band.”
He was caught off guard, steering with one hand: “Why? You love it.”
“Not anymore,” she replied flatly.
He didn’t press. “The surgery’s scheduled for tomorrow morning. Everything’s ready.”
She assumed he would be the one performing it–or at the very least a senior surgeon–and thought nothing more of it.
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But when she was wheeled into the operating room the next day and the anesthesia was already taking hold, she saw the lead surgeon wasn’t him, but Angelina. Benjamin stood at her side as the assistant.
Her throat was her life. There was no way she could entrust it to an
intern.
Panic surged. She tried to rise, but her body was already too weak. Her voice broke into fragments. “Change… Not her… Benjamin, you do it…”
He stroked her face gently. “Be good. Angie needs practical experience for her thesis. She’s at the top of her class. Don’t worry. Just sleep.”
His words blurred as her consciousness slipped away.
When she woke, she was in a ward. For a few seconds, she was blank- then the memories flooded back. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a broken, wheezing sound came out.
Rachel pressed her throat and tried again several times in a panic, but there was no improvement. Her eyes grew red from the strain and worry.
The door opened, and Benjamin walked in with Angelina trailing behind.
She pointed urgently at her throat. His eyes flickered before he said, “There was a small complication during the surgery. But don’t worry. I’ll fix your voice.”
Her eyes widened. She screamed internally, “A small complication? If it were that minor, why do you look like that?”
Then, she caught Angelina’s gaze–smug, triumphant, taunting.
Her stomach dropped. Before the blackmail photos, she had suspected Angelina, but dismissed the idea. Surely no girl would orchestrate something so cruel.
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Now, it was clear. Because of her, Wendy was gone, and her voice wast ruined. Rage surged through her. She grabbed a bedside ornament and hurled it.
Benjamin frowned and stepped aside, shielding Angelina in his arms. “Rachel! What are you doing?”
Her hands trembled with fury, eyes burning into Angelina. “She did it on purpose.”
His frown deepened, and his voice turned cold. “Every surgery has risks. This isn’t her fault. Stop lashing out because you’re unhappy.”
Her gaze froze on him, then slowly fell.
His face showed nothing but irritation at her “hysteria.” She let out a brittle laugh. How could she have forgotten? Without his blind trust, Angelina would never have had the chance to destroy her.
She didn’t speak again for days. He visited every day, repeating his promise to cure her voice, but she never once looked at him.
On the fourth night, a message came from William. It was a flight number and a transfer of money.
“Rachel, take this. Live well with your mother.”
She hadn’t told him about Wendy’s death, not wanting to worry him. She simply replied, “Okay.”
As she saved the message, Benjamin’s voice broke the silence from the couch. “Rachel, I have something to do tonight, so I won’t be staying. The surgery is scheduled. After the wedding, we’ll go through with it.”
She didn’t look up. Ten minutes later, Angelina posted on social media–a photo of fireworks, with Benjamin at her side.
Chapter 7
Rachel’s hand trembled as she deleted her from her contacts.
The next morning, the rain finally cleared. Sunlight broke through the clouds as she left the hospital. At the entrance, she snapped her SIM card in two and tossed it in the trash.
And just like that, bathed in sunlight, she walked away alone toward a life without Benjamin.
