Chapter 357 Fatal Heartbreak

Chapter 357: Chapter 357 Fatal Heartbreak

Emilia’s POV

That evening, when I got home from work, one of the maids told me Tiffany was back.

I hurried to her room.

She was curled up in bed beneath the blankets. The sight of her made my stomach tighten.

"Tiffany?" I crossed to the bed and sat on the edge, asking softly, "What happened? Why are you back so soon?"

She stirred, and when she spoke, her voice came out cracked and raw, worn thin from hours of crying.

"Emilia. This is the last time. I’m done. I won’t throw my dignity into the gutter chasing a man who doesn’t want me. Not ever again."

I didn’t have a single clever thing to say. For once, my mouth failed me completely.

I knew that feeling. The hollow, helpless ache of loving someone who looks straight through you. So I did the only thing I could.

I reached over and smoothed the hair back from her blotchy, tear-streaked face.

"At least you tried," I murmured. "You flew across an ocean and laid it all on the line. That takes guts, Tiffany. If Fynn can’t see what’s standing right in front of him, that’s his failure, not yours. The man’s blind as a bat and twice as stupid. One day he’ll wake up and realize he let the best thing walk away. I hope it haunts him."

That broke the dam.

"Waaah!"

She launched herself out of the blankets and straight into my arms, crying like her whole world had caved in. Great, gulping sobs shook her thin frame. She could barely catch her breath between them.

"He pushed me away. Again and again and again," she choked out against my shoulder. "But I swear, Emilia, I swear I could feel it. Underneath all that ice, some tiny part of him cares. I know he does. And that’s what hurts the most. My chest. It feels like someone reached in and ripped my heart clean out."

"I know, honey. I know." I rocked her gently and stroked her hair, letting her cry until her sobs began to ease.

Little by little, Tiffany’s sobs faded. Then I couldn’t hear even a sniffle.

I tilted my head down to look at her.

My blood turned to ice.

Tiffany had gone slack in my arms, her head lolling, her lashes still, her lips parted and bloodless.

"Tiffany? Tiffany!" I gave her a shake, panic rising in my throat. "Tiffany, wake up! Look at me!"

Nothing.

She was out cold, limp in my arms.

"Emilia, her breathing’s wrong," Eve said from somewhere deep inside me.

I didn’t waste a second. I slammed open the mind-link, flinging it wide to Sebastian and Mila at once.

Tiffany collapsed. In her room. Something’s wrong. Come now. Hurry.

My hands were already shaking. Sebastian’s words came rushing back to me.

If Tiffany suffered any severe emotional shock, the blood flow to her brain would spike, and it could cost her life.

And I’d just let her cry herself into the ground.

Right here, in my arms.

Her face had gone gray-white. Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow flutters, barely moving.

Think, Emilia. Think.

My mother’s grimoire. The pages I’d pored over in the dead of night when no one was watching. There was a spell buried among the forbidden ink, the Mindveil of Calm Current. It was meant to steady a storm in the blood before it drowned the body.

I’d never dared try it on a living person.

I didn’t have time to be afraid now.

I pressed one trembling palm against Tiffany’s clammy forehead and closed my eyes.

Her pulse jumped against my hand, fast and uneven. I reached for the magic inside me, not with force, but with the same steady patience I used to calm Eve when fear took hold of her.

It answered weakly, reluctantly, a faint warmth gathering beneath my palm.

But it answered.

I drew in one slow breath and let the magic follow it.

In. Out. Again.

The frantic rhythm beneath my hand began to loosen. I stayed with it, following each shallow breath, guiding the rush of blood away from the places where it pressed too hard. Every time the current spiked, I eased it down. Every time it faltered, I held it steady.

"Easy," I whispered, though I wasn’t sure whether I was speaking to Tiffany, the magic, or myself.

The pressure behind her eyes began to fade. The panic in her veins quieted with it.

Her next breath came deeper.

The one after that was steadier.

The gray in her cheeks warmed by a shade.

The pressure in my own chest eased a little. I sagged over her, drenched in cold sweat.

Then the door crashed open, and the room filled with people.

Mila took one look at her daughter and went white. Sebastian scooped Tiffany into his arms like she weighed nothing, barking orders.

Then we were all moving, a blur of fear and hurried footsteps, down the stairs and into the cars and out into the night.

The hospital reeked of antiseptic. We clustered outside the emergency room, waiting in silence.

My head throbbed. My fingers had gone numb and started tingling, the aftershock of using magic I barely knew how to control. I pressed them against my thigh and willed the feeling back into them.

Sebastian stood at the window with his back to us, rigid.

I hesitated for a long time. Then I crossed the floor and stopped beside him.

"I’m sorry," I said quietly.

He glanced down at me. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I was right there. She fell apart in my arms, and I let her. I should have calmed her down the second I saw how bad it was getting. I should have—"

"Emilia." His voice was low and tired. "This isn’t the time to look for someone to blame. And if we were handing out guilt, I’d be first in line. I’m her brother. I should have protected her."

"Is she going to be all right?"

"We won’t know until the doctor comes out."

His face was full of grief and fear, and the sight of it tightened something in my chest. If only my witch power were stronger. If only I’d learned more spells. Then maybe I could have done more than keep her alive for a few minutes.

I shut my eyes and prayed to whoever was listening that Tiffany would make it through.

The light above the emergency room doors flicked off.