Despite everything, Calista hadn't been abandoned by God. If He took something, He also gave something, perhaps because He knew that everything had been unfair. But what this gift was, no one knew yet—not even Calista. However, she would soon find out. God had bestowed upon her a gift that would help her become the most powerful person in the world.
As Calista lay in her hospital bed, recovering from the traumatic accident and the devastating loss of her unborn child, she was unaware of the changes happening within her. Her mind, once weighed down by sorrow and despair, began to sharpen. Her thoughts became clearer, her focus more intense. She noticed small details that others overlooked, made connections that seemed almost prophetic.
Days turned into weeks, and slowly, Calista began to regain her strength. One morning, she opened her eyes to the harsh light of the hospital room and the sterile scent of antiseptic. Her body ached, and her heart was heavy with grief, but there was also a strange new clarity in her mind. It felt as if a fog had lifted, revealing a world of possibilities she had never imagined.
As she lay there, contemplating her future, the door to her room opened. Andrew entered, followed by his mother, sister, and the woman she had seen with him at the hospital—his so-called mistress. They looked down at her with a mixture of disdain and indifference.
"You're awake," Andrew said coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth or concern.
Calista's heart tightened at his tone, but she met his gaze with a newfound resolve. "Yes, I am."
His mother, Eleanor, stepped forward, her expression one of barely concealed contempt. "You always manage to cause trouble, don't you? Even now, lying here like this, you're still a burden."
"Mother, please," Andrew's sister, Victoria, interjected with a sneer. "She knows her place. It's about time she learns it properly."
Calista's mind raced, her newfound clarity allowing her to see through their words and actions with startling precision. She could sense their true intentions, their hidden agendas, and it fueled a fire within her. For the first time, she felt a spark of the gift God had given her—a heightened intuition, an almost supernatural ability to read people and situations.
"Why are you here?" Calista asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.
Andrew's so-called mistress, a woman named Lydia, stepped forward with a smirk. "Andrew thought it would be best if you heard it from us directly. Your accident, while unfortunate, changes nothing. Your place remains the same."
Andrew nodded, his arrogance palpable. "She's right. This changes nothing. Even if you had died, it wouldn't have mattered."
Calista felt a surge of anger and sadness, but also something else—an emerging power, a gift that was beginning to awaken. She took a deep breath, focusing on this newfound strength. "You're wrong," she said quietly, her voice firm. "Everything has changed."
Eleanor laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "And what exactly do you think has changed, dear? You're still the same worthless girl we took in."
Calista's eyes narrowed, her intuition guiding her words. "I see things more clearly now. I understand your motives, your fears. You may think I'm powerless, but you're mistaken."
Victoria scoffed, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "What are you talking about?"
Calista felt the gift within her grow stronger, giving her the confidence to confront them. "I'm talking about the way you've all treated me, the way you've tried to break me. But I won't be broken. Not anymore."
Andrew stepped closer, his arrogance masking a flicker of doubt. "And what are you going to do about it? You have nothing, Calista."
Calista met his gaze, unflinching. "I have more than you know. And I will make sure that you all understand that soon enough."
Lydia laughed, but it was a nervous, uneasy sound. "You're delusional."
"Maybe," Calista replied, her voice calm and steady. "But I promise you this: I will not be the same woman you think you can control. My suffering ends now."
Eleanor's eyes flickered with a mixture of fear and anger. "You're just a broken woman who can't even keep her child safe. You're nothing."
At the mention of her lost baby, Calista's heart shattered anew. Tears filled her eyes, but her voice was filled with a bitter resolve. "You're right, Eleanor. I couldn't keep my child safe. I lost my baby because of this family's cruelty and indifference. But that child gave me strength even in his absence. His loss is my catalyst."
Andrew's expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "Calista, I—"
"Save it," Calista interrupted, her voice cold. "Your words mean nothing to me now. You've lost the right to my forgiveness, to any compassion I had left for you. I will not be your victim any longer."
As they left the room, Calista felt a sense of empowerment she had never known before. Her gift was still in its infancy, but it was enough to give her hope, to fuel her determination. She would harness this newfound power, nurture it, and use it to reclaim her life.
Lying in the hospital bed, Calista made a silent vow to herself. She would never forgive Andrew and his family for the pain they had caused her. She would take revenge and make them as miserable as she had been these past three years. She would make every effort to become a person that was looked upon by everyone, person who was desired by many but only few can to reach her and with the gift that God had given her, she knew she could achieve it. This was just the beginning.