"Forcefully keeping Kristen in a coma is making him suffer, he can't live and he can't die..."
"I know it's going to be really hard, but I hope you'll have no regrets..."
"...So your brother can get the rest he deserves."
Within a modestly decorated, small-sized apartment, ink splattered onto a wide canvas and a small hand furiously brushed through the ink on the canvas, creating an endless black whirl.
Words repeated in her head and she felt her heart hammering, sweat clung to her body, making her hair stick to her face.
She did the one thing that always took her mind off things, she poured ink upon a canvas and created something akin to the emotions she was feeling, but this time, unlike every other time, the pain and anxiety didn't subside.
She could hear the doctor's voice in her head, hear her mother's disappointment, she could see Kristen suffering. Everything merged into one and broke her down into a sobbing mess.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry!" Those words of apology repeatedly poured out of her mouth as she cried.
How could she decide her own brother's death?
How was she expected to live on if she caused the only remaining person close to her heart to die?
Why was the weight of that decision on her alone?
She'd always been alone, but this time, she wished there was someone she could cry to, someone who would tell her everything would be fine... that her brother would be fine, but almost everyone she'd known and loved had left her.
Hours slipped by and she laid alone in the darkness, with no sounds but her own silent sobs and the reminder of old memories ringing in her mind.
"Careful, sis!" A youthful guy with furry-looking brown hair called with a strictness between his brows. "You're always in a hurry, I fear someday you'll trip over yourself like a silly little child."
Anne gasped dramatically, reaching up to smack the back of his head playfully. "I'm your big sister, who are you calling a silly child? It seems you have started forgetting that because you've grown taller than me."
Kris moved away from his sister, rubbing the spot she'd hit. "With the way you act, you might as well have been my little sister."
"What did you say?"
To avoid another hit, he quickly blurted, "Nothing." As she served him his favorite meal. It was just the two of them after their parents' death when they left their uncle's home.
Kristen watched his sister go back and forth, spouting nagging words at him as she went. A smile curved his face, she stopped when she noticed his gaze, giving him a questioning glance.
"What are you looking at, don't tell me you're planning my demise in your head?" she joked.
"Don't even think about following in Mom and Dad's footsteps. I'll make sure you live to a hundred years if I have to sell my soul to the devil."
The memory faded away with the sound of her laughter. A kind of warmth she hadn't felt in a long time faded along with it.
"I'll make sure you live too, Kris, if I have to sell my soul to the king of hell."
Anne knew one thing for certain, no matter what happened, she wouldn't watch her own brother die.
Even if the surgery had the smallest, one percent chance of success, she would make it happen. That was what she'd said to Doctor Steve before leaving the hospital. She hadn't expected to see that person...
At the thought of Andrew Sterling, she frowned.
Why had he been there?
And what had he said to her?
She'd barely been able to hear whatever he said to her, she'd been too lost in her own bad memories. The only thing she could remember was the fury burning in his dark eyes. How she'd attracted that man's hatred was still a mystery to her, but she was certain he would never like her.
Her tears had stopped at some point, she got on her feet and turned on the lights. Her every movement was like that of a ghost as she dragged her feet to the kitchen. She cooked herself a light meal, knowing she needed to fill her stomach for what she was about to do.
Stuffing the food past her throat even though she felt no taste, she took a bath next, cleaning herself thoroughly.
When she left the house again, there was a determination to her steps. Minutes later, she stood outside the Black Thorn Manor, the building located in seclusion and darkness... it looked like the devil's lair, the very place she'd come to sell herself.
==========
"This is getting really bad, I was sure the drugs you were taking previously would work."
A man, dressed in a grey-colored dress shirt, stood in the expansive-looking study room with a pondering expression. He was tall, which made his physique similar to that of a male model. Gold-framed glasses sat on his elegant high nose, beneath them laid sharp eyes shaped like a cat's.
Shawn Reynolds assessed his patient thoroughly, he'd never met a case he couldn't solve. Never been faced with any medical condition he couldn't find a cure to. His astuteness in medicine had led to him being named a genius doctor.
But despite his prowess in the medical field, finding a cure for his best friend's ailment had been a struggle for years.
Andrew had invited some of the best doctors this country could ever have, to cure himself of this troublesome insomnia, but none of them had been able to even figure out why or how to cure him.
The only person who'd managed to create a drug that enabled him to sometimes get at least a few hours of sleep was Shawn, but the drug only worked for a few months before it stopped being effective altogether.
"We've tried hypnosis, we've spent two years creating a pill that works but suddenly stopped working. I never thought I'd see a day where I would be completely lost without any route to find a solution." Shawn slumped on the couch, but the man next to him, who had his head laid back on the couch with his eyes closed, didn't stir. His brows furrowed when Shawn landed on the couch next to him.
"Shh, if you can't give me a solution, shut up and let me rest." Andrew's voice drawled out, sounding low, laced with suppressed exhaustion.
Shawn sneered, "You can't even fall asleep, so technically I'm not disturbing your rest."
Andrew peeled his tired eyes open and sent a glare to the man next to him.
"Alright, alright, I'll leave."
Just as Shawn got up and grabbed his jacket, a light knock was heard on the door.
"Come in."
Butler Jones entered the room, keeping a professional stance as he bowed in greeting to the two men inside the room.
"Master, Miss Thompson is here."
Andrew slowly sat up upon hearing the butler's words, while curiosity shone in Shawn's eyes as he looked from his friend's face to the butler's.
"Today isn't Friday yet. Send her away."
Shawn hadn't missed the slight emotion that seemed to fleet past Andrew's eyes for a single moment before he suddenly spoke dismissively.
"I have, Master, but she refuses to leave. Miss Thompson says she won't leave tonight until the contract is fulfilled."