Chapter 3

Cindy stood alone in the lake, an ineffable desolation welling up within her. She'd spent the entire night hunched over, searching, until she finally found the bracelet. As dawn broke, she straightened up, shivering, her body numb and marked with purple from the cold. But she didn't care about the pain. Clutching the bracelet, she hurried back to the Forsyth Group building. Annette was in Arthur's office. She took the bracelet, giving it a quick, dismissive look. "It's covered in mud. It's totally ruined. I don't even want it anymore!" she snapped, breaking the bracelet in two and tossing it into the trash. Arthur barely glanced at it, his voice cool and detached. "Just throw it away if you don't like it. I'll get you a new one." Annette flashed him a sugary smile. "You're so nice to me." Cindy walked out, looking disheveled. The employees in the CEO's office had long grown accustomed to seeing her like this. Over the years, she had endured more than her fair share of hardships. None of them could understand why she still insisted on staying. Cindy didn't even take a single day off. She simply popped two cold pills and went along with Arthur on his inspection tour as usual. By the time the tour wrapped up, it was already evening. Annette showed up, asking Arthur to join her for dinner. "Cindy, why don't you come with us?" she suggested eagerly. It wasn't until the dishes arrived that Cindy realized why she'd been invited. The table was laden with spicy dishes, and the only dessert was mango ice cream, made from a fruit she was allergic to. In the past, Arthur would have carefully picked out even the tiniest speck of chili from her food. Now, it seemed, he had forgotten all about that. He didn't spare Cindy a single look, his attention fixed entirely on helping Annette with her water and food. Annette deliberately turned to Cindy and asked, "Why aren't you eating, Cindy?" Arthur finally looked up, a hint of coldness flickering in his expression. "Why are you even sitting here if you're not eating?" Cindy had no choice but to pick up her fork and spear a hot wing, bringing it to her lips. Once the meal was over, Arthur left with Annette. Cindy went home alone, her forehead slick with sweat from the spice, her stomach churning with searing pain. She lay on her bed, numb, her eyes dry, no matter how much it hurt. The suffering she'd endured over the years was her penance to Winter. Each ounce of pain eased the weight of the guilt pressing down on her, letting her breathe just a little easier. The agony blurred her thoughts, yet a faint, desolate smile lingered on her face. … A few more days went by. Without proper treatment and with her stomach constantly irritated by alcohol, Cindy's health had taken a turn for the worse. Still, each time, she simply tossed back two pills and forced herself to push through the pain. It was the weekend. Cindy lay on the couch, her body in so much pain she couldn't bring herself to move. Just then, her phone rang. It was Arthur. "Ann wants a chicken pot pie from Crusty Comforts. Go get one for her." As Arthur's assistant, Cindy had never known what it meant to have a day off. Whenever he demanded something, she was expected to jump to it without question. But today, the pain was so intense she couldn't even muster the strength to stand. "Could you ask your other assistant, Mr. Ackerman, to go today? I—" Before she could finish, Arthur cut her off coldly. "Cindy, when did I ever give you the right to decide?" Her breath hitched, and no words came out. "You can go, or you can disappear for good." With that, Arthur hung up without another word. Cindy had no choice but to force herself up, biting back the pain as she staggered out the door. Crusty Comforts, known for its chicken pot pie, was tucked away on a remote street but drew huge crowds. Cindy waited in line for three long hours before finally securing a pie. She hurried to Arthur's place and handed the pie to Annette, whose expression hardened. "Who told you to add spicy seasonings?" she snapped. Struggling to breathe through the pain, Cindy answered, "I thought you liked spicy food." Annette dumped it without a second thought. "I don't like spicy food anymore." Arthur's gaze darkened as he turned to Cindy and ordered, "Go get another one." Once again, Cindy rushed out the door. The second time she returned with the pie, Annette complained that it contained celery. Arthur, acting as though he didn't notice she was deliberately making things difficult for Cindy, said flatly, "Go get another one." And so, Cindy made the trip back and forth several times. By the time she returned with the final pie, night had fallen. She clutched the carefully wrapped chicken pot pie, her steps shaky as she hurried back. The pain in her stomach was excruciating, and her legs felt as though they might give way at any moment. Her mind was foggy, and she barely registered the road ahead. Suddenly, a sharp honk pierced the air. A van sped toward her, slamming into her with a sickening crash! Cindy was thrown to the ground, rolling several times from the impact. The force was so great that she could no longer hold back. A rush of blood poured from her mouth. The chicken pot pie lay spilled on the ground, its scent wafted to her nose. Everything before her eyes dissolved into a blurry haze, like static on an old TV screen. Was she finally going to die? Would she finally get to see Winter again? A single tear of relief slipped from the corner of her eye. Then, darkness swallowed her whole. … When Sylvan saw the person being wheeled in on the emergency stretcher at the hospital, his heart lurched. It was Cindy! "Cindy! Cindy!" He called her name repeatedly, but the figure on the stretcher gave no response. She was still vomiting blood. Even the chief physician was alarmed. "Could it be an organ rupture?" Sylvan's face twisted with fear as he said, "She has stomach cancer!" The doctor's expression shifted instantly. He quickly instructed the team to rush Cindy into the operating room for emergency treatment. Several hours later, the surgery ended, but it had only managed to stop the bleeding from her car accident injuries. Every monitor in the room screamed the same truth—her life was slipping away! Sylvan, frantic, turned to the professor. "What's happening to her, Professor?" The professor shook his head. "Her body had already been weakened by late-stage stomach cancer, and the car accident led to her organs failing ahead of time." Cindy lay unconscious on the hospital bed, coughing up blood as she murmured a name over and over, "Arthur… Arthur…" She looked as though she might take her last breath at any moment. Sylvan's eyes burned red as he clutched her hand, his voice breaking with tears. "Cindy, hold on. Please, just hold on. I'll get him to come see you. Just wait a little longer. Just a little longer!" His hands shook as he pulled out her phone and dialed Arthur's number. The call connected, and a cold voice came through. "Cindy, did you get so lost buying a chicken pot pie that you can't find your way back?" Sylvan clenched his fists, muttering, "It's me, Sylvan." There was silence on the other end, followed by a low, tense voice after a few seconds. "Why do you have her phone?" Sylvan's eyes were fixed on the heart monitor. The line was nearly flat. His voice trembled as he emphasized each word. "Come to the hospital and see Cindy one last time."