His Regret Bound My Ghost to His Side

Chapter 8

From that moment on, Elara sheathed all her thorns, becoming alarmingly docile.

She tended to Sybil like clockwork—bathing her, doling out meds, logging every vital sign, even volunteering updates to Silas.

His attitude toward her thawed gradually. Sometimes he'd linger in the ward, watching her bustle about, his voice thick with rueful hindsight. "You were always too stubborn," he sighed, "digging your heels in, leaving no room to maneuver. That's why we crashed and burned."

The dying sun slanted through the window, drenching her in a honeyed glow that softened her silhouette.

Yet a cold dread coiled in Silas's gut.

He ventured hesitantly, hope threading his words: "When Sybil wakes up… make it right with her. She's always doted on you. She'll forgive you."

"Then we could go back to how things were."

Those words—back to how things were—drove into Elara's chest like an ice pick.

She kept her eyes down, adjusting the blanket with feather-light touches. "That ship has sailed." She murmured.

"What was that?" Silas leaned in, catching only fragments.

She shook her head minutely, tone flat. "Nothing. I'll take care of Sybil."

Assuming it was lingering guilt, he reached out—only for her to drift just out of reach, her indifference glacial.

His hand hung suspended, disappointment flickering before he let it drop, silent as the machines beeping around them.

The day the insurance kicked in, Elara changed into crisp clothes and fired off a text to Lila.

Message sent, she ascended to the rooftop.

Wind snarled across the concrete, snapping at her sleeves like angry jaws as she leaned against the railing, waiting.

Nine minutes later, the door burst open.

Lila stormed in, designer heels clacking like gunshots, her face a portrait of suspicion. "What's your angle this time?" She spat. "If you had proof, it'd be public by now. Who's buying this performance?"

Elara lifted her gaze slowly, lips quirking in a smirk that didn't reach her eyes. "You're right. I've got no evidence."

A beat. Lila's shoulders loosened—then Elara struck. "But Silas's thawing toward me. Once we reconcile completely. Whose word do you think he'll take?"

"Liar!" Panic flashed in Lila's eyes before she jutted her chin. "You? He's always doubted you!"

"Doubted me?" Elara's laugh was a derisive s***h. "He only trusts you because you lacked motive."

"But tell me—are you sure that drug did its job? Doctors say she might wake. Will you finish what you started or wait for her to name you?"

She stepped closer, voice a velvet-coated blade. "And let's be real—you think he loves you? I'm the one he's always wanted. You're just a placeholder."

"Enough!"

Lila's face twisted with rage, her eyes bloodshot as she shrieked, "How dare you say that? Elara, you're nothing! A penniless nobody—why should Silas go against everyone for you? Why do you get to keep the title of Mrs. Voss? I'm prettier, richer, and way more deserving of him than you!"

She lunged forward, jabbing a trembling finger in Elara's face, her voice raw with venom.

"I was the one who pushed Sybil! She deserved it for shielding a worthless b***h like you! And yes, I had her poisoned—I couldn't let her wake up and expose me!"

Elara watched her lose it, her own expression eerily calm. That serenity only fueled Lila's fury. With a snarl, she shoved Elara with all her strength.

"I've stood by Silas for years! Five years wasted tending to that miserable Sybil—the title of Mrs. Voss was always meant to be mine! Yet he still won't divorce you, still holds onto some stupid hope for you. I hate you!"

The force sent Elara reeling backward. Her body slipped past the icy railing, the world spinning as she fell.

Wind howled past her ears as Lila's horrified, contorted face was the last thing she saw.

Her fingers grazed the hidden camera in her earring.

And then, she smiled.