A year later,
The steady peeping sound from the monitor was the only thing echoing in the sterile, white-painted room that reeked of disinfectant and medicine.
A woman lay still on the bed, her entire face wrapped in bandages, concealing every inch of her identity.
Her hands suddenly twitched, and she snapped her eyes open.
The environment was unfamiliar. The smell, the loud silence, everything was unfamiliar.
Her eyes were red with blood, as she suddenly sprang up from the bed. She scanned around the room, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath as if she'd ran a marathon.
Confusion was etched on her face. She was supposed to be dead. The room was extremely white, making her think she was in heaven, but she didn't think they had medical devices in heaven.
Unable to understand what was going on, Eva tore the IV needle out of her wrist. Instantly, pain erupted through her body, making her wince as blood flowed uncontrollably.
A look of regret flashed through her eyes, realizing that was a stupid thing to do.
Eva tore a piece of the bed cloth and used it to tie around her wrist, hoping the blood would stop, but the cloth got soaked in red instead.
Grunting, she ignored her wrist and searched for the door. She needed to get out of there and find the people who did this to her. She needed to make them pay, else she would never rest.
Eva tried to move her legs to step down off the bed, but she realized she couldn't move them. She blinked at her legs, trying to move them once again but nothing, not even a little shake.
The memory of how those goons hit her legs with their baseball bat rushed into her head. Just as Katherine had instructed, they'd made sure they'd broken the leg so she wouldn't walk on the runway ever again. She might never even walk on her own ever again.
However, Eva didn't give up. She searched for the nearest object—the IV drip stand. She reached for it by stretching her arm towards it. When she grabbed it, she didn't waste a second and threw it towards the door with all the strength she could gather.
It made a shattering sound. Anyone nearby should hear it and come inside.
The next second, a man opened the door and rushed in. He wore a white lab coat, his hair perfectly styled. There was this moment of shock that passed his face before he picked up the IV drip stand.
"I'm so glad that you're awake," the doctor said.
Hailey tried to speak, but no sound came out of her lips. She touched her mouth but it wasn't there anymore. Instead, a material was over her face. She frowned.
"There's a bandage on your face. We had to keep it that way for a while until your face healed," the doctor replied. His gaze landed on her hand.
Quickly, he called for a few other nurses.
Eva didn't have an idea what was going on. But she didn't protest. After lifting the IV stand, she could feel her body succumbing to exhaustion.
Eva carefully watched the doctor and the three nurses as he unbandaged her face.
"You've been in a coma for a while now, but since you're awake now, you don't need it," he said.
She didn't know what he meant—why they had to bandage her face in the first place, but since she couldn't talk yet, she kept quiet.
After five minutes of careful unbandaging, the doctor was finished. He took some antiseptic to cleanse some parts of her face.
Eva winced.
When he was done, he took a mirror from one of the nurses and gave it to Eva.
"Here, take a look at your face," he said.
Curious, Eva grabbed the mirror and stared into the mirror, however, the face she was used to looking at in the mirror wasn't what was staring back at her.
Eva was aware she'd been in a coma and her memory was slightly distorted, but it wasn't damaged to the extent that she didn't know what she looked like.
"This is not my face," she said, her voice hoarse.
The doctor grabbed a glass of water and gave it to her. But the water can wait.
"When Dante brought you here, your face was damaged," he explained.
A big frown settled on her face.
'Dante? Who could that be?' She wondered.
"We have to give you a facial reconstruction, and that's why you look like that now," he explained.
A facial reconstruction meant cosmetic surgery. She didn't look like Evangeline anymore. She looked like a stranger to herself.
The information was hard to digest but nothing could be done about it. The doctor needed to do what had to be done for her to survive.
Brushing that aside, she said, "I need to get out of here."
The doctor paused. He gave the nurses a look and they excused themselves.
"Eva—"
"How do you know my name?"
"There was a missing report about you on the news. The media thinks you've gone missing or… dead," he explained.
"That's why I need to leave and make sure those people who did this to me pay for their doings." The corners of her eyes suddenly caught the calendar. "Wait, how long have I been in a coma?" She asked.
The doctor glanced at the calendar. "For a year."
If Eva was shocked, she didn't show it. Instead, her face darkened.
"I need to leave here," she said, determined. "They've been roaming around freely for a whole year."
"You're going to have to wait until I bring the man that saved you that night so you can have a proper conversation with him. He's currently on a business trip, but should return in two days. Can you wait for two days?" He asked her as if she had a choice. She couldn't even move around freely if she wanted to.
Stiffly, she nodded. "I'll wait."