chapter fourteen - reconciliation

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isabella's pov


My hands trembled as I yanked at the locked door handle, panic rising in my chest. The thick, suffocating silence of the office felt even heavier now, as though it was pressing against me, demanding that I get out—get away. But the door wouldn't budge. The lock clicked against my frantic pulling, and each time I tried, it mocked me with its stubbornness.

I could hear Marcus's voice echoing from the hallway again, louder this time, impatience creeping into his tone. "What's taking so long?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, the anxiety choking me. If he found me in here, if he even suspected what I was doing—what I wasn't supposed to be doing—I was done.

There was no way I could pick the lock from the inside. No tools, no time. The desperation started to claw at me, gnawing at my insides like a hungry beast. What the hell was I going to do?

Then, I had an idea. It was a last-ditch effort, but it was all I had. I abandoned the door and turned toward the computer. I needed to alter the file first—get that damn report erased before anything else.

With shaky fingers, I clicked through the directory, feeling my heart pound harder with every second that passed. My name—Isabella Johnson. I typed it in and hit enter.

Nothing.

A frustrated sigh slipped from my lips. I quickly changed the last name to King—the surname they probably assigned me. This time, the file popped up first. Isabella King: Highest Level Priority.

I clicked it, my breath caught in my throat as the blood test results and the doctor's remarks appeared in front of me. My stomach churned when I saw the doctor's note, the clinical coldness of the language sending a fresh wave of nausea through me.

Patient: Isabella King

Diagnosis: Stage 2 Malignant Tumor - Left Breast

Recommendation: Immediate chemotherapy treatment.

My hands shook as I selected the doctor's remark. I highlighted the text, every keystroke a desperate prayer that this would work. I clicked "Delete"—the cursor hovered over the confirmation button, and as it began to erase, the screen blinked and began loading. Changes saving...

But just before it could confirm, a pop-up appeared, and I felt my stomach drop to my knees.

"Logged out: Cannot be logged in on the same account on two different devices."

Did the diagnosis save? Am I going to get caught?

What the hell? I swore under my breath. Of course, his dad must've logged in at work. This was supposed to be my window—this moment where everything went right—and now it was slipping away.

Marcus's voice came again, even closer this time. "Isabella?" He was getting impatient, louder, angrier. 

I could feel my breath quickening as my pulse hammered in my ears. What was I going to do? Time was running out. I wasn't going to make it. I was going to get caught, and I'd be screwed, and I couldn't even delete the damn file.

I was about to give up, but suddenly, the door swung open.

I froze.

And there she was—the maid.

She gave me an annoyed look, shaking her head. "Why would you lock the door if you didn't have a key?" she muttered under her breath.

I blinked at her, my heart racing. It took me a moment to realize what had just happened. I plastered on an innocent smile, forcing a laugh to cover the panic bubbling up inside me. "Oh, I was just being silly. I didn't mean to lock it." I walked out briskly, my mind still spinning.

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⏰ Last updated: Dec 20, 2024 ⏰

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