She Jumps Then Wakes Unhurt While Her Family Bleeds Ten Times Worse Chapter 02
The ICU reeked of blood and antiseptic.
“This doesn’t make any sense. There’s no medical explanation,” the attending physician said, shaking his head as he flipped through the charts.
“Injuries from a car crash shouldn’t look like this. These are clean cuts.”
“We’ve given him every painkiller we can, and nothing’s helping.”
After the doctors left, the room was filled only with the steady beeping of machines.
Maisie sat by the bed, wiping her tears.
“Dad, Mom, please get better soon. I’m so scared being on my own.”
She leaned against Margaret Harrington’s bed, her voice tight with frustration.
“The hospital called again. They said if I don’t get a stem cell transplant soon, it’ll be too late.”
Margaret forced her eyes open, her gaze heavy with pity as she looked at her.
“Maisie, don’t you worry… even if it kills me, I’ll make sure Elowen gives you her bone marrow.”
“But Elowen…” Maisie shot me a timid glance.
On the adjacent bed, Callum lay with his face wrapped in bandages.
At those words, he suddenly struggled to sit up.
“Elowen! You bitch!”
“The state we’re in… did you do something to that car?!”
His body trembled with pain, but his eyes still bored into me with hatred.
“You’re signing that consent form today! Now get over there and give Maisie her bone marrow!”
I stood at the foot of the bed, watching his face twist with fury.
“Callum, in your condition, you still have the energy to curse me out?”
“Shut up! Even if I’ve only got one breath left, I’ll still kill you, you vicious—”
Before he could finish, I took a step back.
I lifted my right leg and slammed it hard against the metal corner of the hospital bed.
A dull crack echoed.
“Ah!” Callum’s curses turned into a scream.
His whole body jerked up off the bed. “My leg! It’s broken!”
Cold sweat soaked his hospital gown as he clutched his right leg and writhed.
“Doctor! We need a doctor! His bone’s been shattered!” Nathan shouted in panic.
The room descended into chaos.
I remained where I was and brushed the dust off my pant leg.
There wasn’t even a bruise on my calf.
William Harrington lay in bed, staring at the leg I had just slammed against the bedframe.
The anger drained from his face, replaced by fear.
“You… what did you just do?” His voice was barely holding together.
“Nothing. I just bumped into it by accident.” I blinked at him.
Margaret came back to her senses as well.
She looked at Callum’s leg, bent at an unnatural angle, then lowered her gaze to my completely unharmed one.
“So anytime you get hurt… we feel the pain?”
“Seems like it.” I nodded with a smile.
“Back at the accident, I cut my wrist, and Nathan’s arm split open.”
“Just now, I hit my leg, and Callum’s leg broke.”
I took a step forward, letting my gaze sweep over all four of them.
“What do you think would happen if I stabbed a knife into my own heart right now?”
The room fell so silent that even Callum’s strained whimpers were audible.
William swallowed hard. His face was as pale as the hospital sheets.
“Hey, someone get in here!” he shouted.
The bodyguards rushed in. “Mr. Harrington, what do you need?”
“Starting today, three of you stay with Elowen at all times.” His hand shook as he pointed at me.
“She’s not to be harmed in any way. Not a scratch, not a bruise. Do you understand me?!”
“Yes, Mr. Harrington!”
Maisie stood to the side. Watching the entire family become this tense over me, her face turned pale.
She twisted the hem of her clothes, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Three days later, I was discharged and went back to the Harrington Estate.
Three bodyguards stood behind me like sentinels.
Maisie came out of the kitchen with a glass of water.
When she saw what was happening, she let out a quiet, cold laugh.
“My, my… the princess needs an escort just to walk down the stairs.”
“Mom and Dad are making a fuss over nothing. It’s not like you’re made of glass.” She turned and headed upstairs after speaking.
I stood at the top of the stairs watching her walk past me.
I looked down and spotted it.
A thin, glistening film of oil coated the outer edges of the steps. Industrial lubricant.
Maisie stood downstairs, holding her phone like she was casually scrolling, but her attention was fixed entirely on my feet.
She wanted to stage an “accident”—prove to the family I wasn’t as fragile as they thought.
I looked at the slick patch and curved my lips into a faint smile.
“You don’t need to hold me. I can manage.” I brushed the bodyguards’ hands aside.
And I stepped straight onto it.
