A charming young lady of 19 stood beside a photograph of a grave, her eyes locked on the image of her late brother. Tears streamed down her delicate face, her usually bright eyes clouded with sorrow. Standing beside her was a strikingly beautiful woman of about 25, her expression a mixture of deep regret and fierce determination.
"Brother, why did you leave us alone?" Helena whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of her grief. The words barely escaped her lips, each one soaked in the despair of a heartbroken girl lost in a world that had suddenly become too cruel.
Sarah, the older woman, clenched her fists as she fought to maintain her composure. But even she could not hold back the tears that brimmed in her eyes. "I must confess, brother. It was my misjudgment that provoked those carnal and affluent rascals," she cried out, her voice raw with guilt. The words hung heavy in the air, as though speaking them aloud made her culpability all too real.
Helena's tears fell faster as she reached out, touching the cold surface of the photograph. "But that mysterious individual… The one who saved our lives and killed those 600 people to warn them off… It was not your fault, dear sister. Who could have known they were wolves in sheep's clothing?" Helena's voice broke, the innocence in her words contrasting painfully with the horror of their situation.
Sarah's heart twisted at her sister's naivety, but she knew she had to be strong. "Helena, I promise you and our departed brother that we will avenge him," Sarah vowed, her voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill over. The words were a solemn oath, a promise carved from the agony of their loss.
Helena wiped her tears and stood up, though the pain in her heart was far from gone. The two sisters left the cemetery, sliding into the sleek black Mercedes parked nearby. "I'll drop you at school, and then I'll head to my company," Sarah said, her voice taking on a practical tone that barely masked the storm of emotions roiling beneath the surface.
At the mention of school, Helena's heart lurched. School had become a place of dread, a place where the echoes of her torment followed her every step. But she said nothing, forcing a smile as Sarah drove away.
Once at school, Helena walked into her classroom, trying to suppress the growing knot of anxiety in her stomach. The walls seemed to close in on her as she overheard the familiar voices of two boys, their conversation dripping with malice.
"Do you remember that night two years ago?" one of them sneered, his voice filled with cruel amusement.
"Who can forget? We almost got that Helena bitch into bed. But then that damn vigilante showed up and ruined everything," the other boy responded with a bitter laugh.
"But we did get her brother," the first boy said, his laughter growing louder and more sinister. "Hahahaha!"
Helena's blood ran cold. The words cut through her like a knife, reopening wounds she had tried so hard to heal. Her vision blurred with tears, and without thinking, she turned and ran. The world around her became a blur as she fled to the rooftop, the only place she felt she could escape the crushing weight of her emotions.
And then, with a sickening thud, everything went silent.
A crowd quickly gathered near the school building, their faces a mix of horror and curiosity. Helena's lifeless body lay in a pool of blood, her once-vibrant spirit extinguished in an instant. If Sarah had been there, she would have been shattered, unable to comprehend that her beloved sister had taken her own life.
"Excuse me, do you know who jumped?" someone asked, their voice shaking.
"It's not just anyone—it's Helena," another replied, the news spreading like wildfire.
"She brought it on herself, offending those young masters, especially the Ye family's young master," someone muttered, their tone filled with a twisted sense of justification.
"Please, someone call an ambulance!" a girl named Violet cried, her voice filled with desperation as she knelt beside Helena's broken body.
"That girl is dead; there's no use calling an ambulance," a rich girl with heavy makeup remarked with cold indifference.
"She can't be dead! Someone, please, call an ambulance!" Violet pleaded, her voice cracking under the weight of her grief.
Finally, a security guard called for help, and Helena was rushed to the hospital. But even as Violet fought to save her friend, the cold bureaucracy of the hospital became another obstacle.
"Why aren't you doing something? She'll die!" Violet shouted, her voice frantic with fear.
"We can't do anything until the fees are deposited; it's our rule," the doctor replied, his tone detached and uncaring.
"We can delay her death for 1-2 hours with our equipment, but someone needs to contact her family. If the money isn't transferred soon, we can't save her," the doctor added with a dispassionate shrug.
Violet's mind raced. She remembered Sarah, the successful owner of Miami Company, was Helena's sister. Without wasting a second, she booked a taxi and rushed to the company, her heart pounding in her chest.
At the reception desk, Violet was nearly breathless with urgency. "I need to meet the owner—it's crucial," she said, her voice trembling.
"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asked, her tone polite but firm.
"No, but it's an emergency! Please, Helena's life is in danger!" Violet begged, tears welling up in her eyes.
The receptionist hesitated, then decided to make the call. "Madam, there's a girl here who says she has important information about your sister."
Sarah, who was deep in her work, felt a chill run down her spine as she heard the words. She quickly took the call. "What's wrong? What happened to Helena?"
"Helena attempted suicide… She's in Life Save Hospital, and they're refusing to treat her without payment," Violet explained, her voice quivering with panic.
Sarah's heart stopped. "What? How can this be? I dropped her off this morning, and she was fine…" her voice trailed off in disbelief.
"I don't know what happened, but please, you need to hurry," Violet urged.
Sarah's mind was racing as she rushed to the hospital with Violet. When they arrived, her hands were trembling as she confronted the doctor.
"Why aren't you treating her? Why are you letting her suffer?" Sarah's voice was filled with a mix of anger and desperation.
"The rules are clear—we need payment before we can proceed. These are the rules set by Ye young master," the doctor responded, a twisted smile on his face.
The mention of Ye young master's name sent a chill down Sarah's spine. She recalled the rainy night that had turned their lives upside down. But now was not the time for fear. "I'll pay whatever it takes—just save her," Sarah demanded, her voice shaking with emotion.
Hours passed, each one an eternity as Sarah waited for news. Finally, the doctor emerged from the operating room, his expression grim.
"She's out of danger, but… she'll never walk again," he said, his voice heavy with finality.
Sarah's world crumbled. "No… No, this can't be… Please, you have to do something," she begged, her voice breaking as she pleaded for a miracle.
"We've done everything we can. She'll wake up in 48 hours," the doctor said, offering little comfort before walking away.
Sarah was left alone with her thoughts, her tears falling freely as she wondered how everything had gone so horribly wrong.
Two days later, Helena awoke, her voice weak as she called out for her brother and sister. "Brother… Sister… Where am I?"
Sarah forced a smile, though her heart was breaking. "You're in the hospital, Helena. You're safe now…"
Helena's eyes filled with confusion and fear. "Why can't I feel my legs? What happened to me?"
Sarah's voice trembled as she tried to reassure her sister. "You were hurt, but you're going to be okay. We'll get through this together…"
But before she could say more, the door burst open, and Ye Mo, the young master of the Ye family, sauntered in with a cruel smile on his face.
"Because your legs are destroyed, bitch," he sneered, his words dripping with venom.
Helena's eyes widened in horror. "No… No, that's not true…" she whispered, denial gripping her heart.
"Shut up, Ye Mo!" Sarah snapped, her voice filled with anger and fear. "Helena, don't listen to him. We'll get you better…"
But the damage was done. The shock was too much for Helena, and she fainted, her fragile spirit unable to bear the weight of her new reality.
Ye Mo smirked as he left the room, his parting words echoing in Sarah's ears. "Remember the warning that saved you? Without it, you and your sister would have been mine… Every day."
As Sarah watched him go, her tears flowed freely. "Why did our brother have to die? Why did this happen to my sister?" she whispered, her heart breaking under the weight of her grief.
When Helena was finally discharged from the hospital, Sarah took her back to their old villa. The once vibrant home was now a place of shadows and silence, mirroring the emptiness that had taken hold of Helena's heart.
Helena's new life in the villa was one of solitude and silence. The cheerful, lively girl who once danced around the house, her laughter filling every corner, was now a ghost of her former self. Her wheelchair creaked softly as she moved through the empty halls, the sound a constant reminder of the freedom she had lost.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Helena's world shrank to the size of her room, her bed, and the view from her window. Outside, the world went on, oblivious to the pain that consumed her. Inside, she was drowning in memories—memories of her brother, of happier times, and of the cruel night that had stolen her future.
Sarah, too, was a shadow of herself. The vibrant businesswoman who once commanded respect in every room she entered now spent her days by Helena's side, her heart breaking anew each time she saw the vacant look in her sister's eyes. She tried to be strong, to be the pillar Helena needed, but the guilt and sorrow were relentless. Every time she looked at Helena, she saw her own failure staring back at her.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the villa, Sarah sat beside Helena's bed. The soft glow of the setting sun painted Helena's face in warm hues, but her expression remained cold, distant.
"Helena," Sarah began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I know I can't take away your pain. I know I can't make things right. But please, don't give up. We can find a way through this, together."
Helena's eyes flickered briefly, but she said nothing. The fire that once burned so brightly within her had been extinguished, leaving behind only the cold ashes of despair.
"I'm so sorry," Sarah choked out, her voice breaking. "If only I had protected you better, if only I had seen through their lies… None of this would have happened."
Helena turned her head slowly to face Sarah, her gaze piercing and filled with an emotion Sarah couldn't quite place—something between sorrow and resignation.
"Sarah," Helena finally spoke, her voice hoarse from disuse, "it's not your fault. We were both deceived by them, by the world we thought we understood. But it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing does."
Sarah's heart clenched at her sister's words. The emptiness in Helena's voice was more painful than any accusation. It was as if Helena had already accepted her fate, had already given up on the life she once fought so hard to preserve.
"Helena, please," Sarah pleaded, her tears spilling over, "don't say that. There's still so much to fight for. I can't lose you too…"
But Helena only looked away, her silence a wall that Sarah couldn't break through.
That night, as Sarah lay in her own bed, she couldn't sleep. The house was too quiet, too full of memories and regrets. She tossed and turned, her mind replaying the events that had led them to this point. The images of that rainy night, of the ambulance, of Helena's broken body lying in a pool of blood, haunted her every thought.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Sarah rose from her bed and made her way to the study. There, she opened the drawer where she kept the letters—letters she had written to her brother after his death, each one filled with her sorrow, her guilt, and her desperate need for his guidance.
She took out a pen and began to write, her hand trembling as she poured her heart onto the page.
"Dear brother,
I don't know how to go on. I don't know how to help her. Helena is slipping away, and I can't reach her. Every day, I see her fading further into the darkness, and it's tearing me apart. I keep thinking about that night, about what I could have done differently. If I had just seen the danger, if I had just protected her better, maybe she would still be the joyful girl we both loved so much.
But I failed her. I failed you. And now, I'm losing her too. I don't know how to be strong anymore, brother. I'm so tired of pretending that everything will be okay when I know deep down that it might never be.
Please, if you can hear me, give me a sign. Show me how to save her, how to bring her back to life. I need you now more than ever."
As she finished the letter, Sarah felt a slight breeze brush against her cheek. She looked up, startled, but the window was closed. For a moment, she thought she heard the faintest whisper of her brother's voice, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.
Wiping away her tears, Sarah folded the letter and placed it with the others. She knew she couldn't give up, not while Helena still needed her. But the path forward seemed impossible to navigate, and for the first time in her life, Sarah felt truly lost.
Meanwhile, Helena sat in her room, staring out at the moonlit garden. Her thoughts were a tangled mess of anger, sadness, and a deep, overwhelming sense of loss. She had always been strong, always fought against the odds. But now… now she felt like a ship without a rudder, drifting aimlessly in a sea of despair.
She thought of her brother, of how he had always been there for her, protecting her, guiding her. And she thought of Sarah, who was trying so hard to be strong for both of them. But Helena couldn't shake the feeling that it was all pointless. The world had shown her its true colors, and it was a world she no longer wanted to be a part of.
But as she sat there, lost in her thoughts, something inside her stirred. A small, flickering ember of the old Helena, the girl who never gave up, who fought for what she believed in. It was faint, almost extinguished, but it was there.
Maybe, just maybe, she thought, there was still a reason to fight. For her brother. For Sarah. For herself.
As the moonlight bathed the room in a soft, silvery glow, Helena made a silent promise to herself. She would try. She would find that spark again, no matter how hard it was. Because if there was one thing her brother had taught her, it was that giving up was never an option.
And so, with a heavy heart but a newfound resolve, Helena closed her eyes and let herself drift into a restless sleep, the flicker of hope keeping the darkness at bay, if only for a little while.