My Heart Finds Peace

The day of the car crash, they all forgot about me.
I died alone, silently, in a forgotten corner.

1
When the crash happened, my mind went blank. Every sensation turned to numb static.
So numb, in fact, that when Mrs. Monroe ripped me from the car and slapped me across the face, I didn’t even feel the sting.
“Anya, you little monster! The Monroes raised you for over a decade, and this is how you repay us?!”
“If anything happens to Chloe, I will send you straight to hell!”
She shoved me aside and scrambled to Chloe’s side. “Chloe, baby, are you okay? Doctor! Somebody save my Chloe! She’s bleeding so much!”
The paramedics were swarmed by the Monroes, dragged and pulled toward Chloe.
They all forgot that I had been in the crash too.
My brother, Ethan, and my… benefactor, Craig, arrived moments later.
Ethan shot me a look of pure hatred before following the ambulance to the hospital.
Craig looked like he wanted to flay me alive. He barked an order at his assistant, Leo.
“Lock her up. I’ll deal with her later.”
Leo, who had started to follow the ambulance, reluctantly turned back.
“Miss Monroe. Let’s go.” His voice was laced with a palpable disgust.
I didn’t move. It was as if my brain had lost control of my body.
For the first time ever, Leo, my bodyguard and assistant, laid a hand on me. He dragged me to the car and shoved me inside. My head slammed against something hard.
The cotton fog in my brain seemed to shift, and a flicker of feeling returned. A single drop of blood fell from my nose onto the back of my hand.
“Leo,” I managed, my voice a weak plea, “can you take me to the hospital first?”
“The hospital? What for? So you can try to finish the job on Chloe? Or are you going to fake an injury to get sympathy from Mr. Robinson and the Monroes? Dream on! I won’t be your accomplice this time.”
He didn’t even spare me a glance. He floored the gas, and the car shot toward the secluded villa on the outskirts of the city. The force of the acceleration slammed me back into my seat, a violent jolt to my already fragile insides. The taste of warm salt filled my mouth.
I couldn’t speak another word. The pain was becoming clearer, sharper.
When we finally arrived, Leo practically threw me into the small, dark room in the basement. He seemed to be in a hurry, so much so that he didn’t even notice the new bloodstains on my clothes. Or maybe he did, and just didn’t care.
With the last of my strength, I grabbed his sleeve.
“Can… can you get me some painkillers…?”
The pain was overwhelming now. I knew something was wrong, something was broken inside me.
Leo recoiled as if I’d burned him, trying to shake my hand off.
“Don’t touch me! Fine, I’ll get them!”
A wave of relief washed over me. “Thank you,” I whispered.
He stiffened, and for a moment, the raw fury in his posture seemed to soften. “Just wait here.”
By the time Leo got to the hospital, Chloe had already been examined and her wounds bandaged. They were just superficial cuts and bruises. Nothing serious.
Mr. and Mrs. Monroe, Ethan, and Craig were all gathered around her bedside. Chloe was like a princess, surrounded by all the love and beauty in the world, basking in the affection of those who adored her.
It was a beautiful picture.
Leo didn’t disturb them. He backed out of the room quietly and slumped against the wall in the hallway, the tension finally leaving his body.
After a long while, he stood up. On the way back, he remembered to stop and buy the painkillers.
But when he returned to the villa, the brief moment of gentleness was gone, replaced by his usual cold, grim expression.
“I got your painkillers,” he snapped, pushing open the door to the dark room.
There was no response. He flicked on the light.
In the dim, yellow glow, a trail of blood snaked across the floor.
I was curled up on the cold concrete, no longer breathing.

2
I was transported into a novel. Five years ago.
I found myself in a popular story about a long-lost heiress, a classic “switched at birth” tale.
I became the fake heiress, the one who had stolen the real one’s identity for years. In the book, she was a manipulative, two-faced character who initially fooled everyone, causing them to misunderstand and mistreat the real heiress. But when her true nature was revealed, she was despised by all and met a tragic end.
The real heiress, of course, became the beloved protagonist.
From the moment I arrived, I knew my role. I had no intention of fighting the real heiress for her place. I was the one who suggested the DNA test, who helped the Monroes find Chloe—who was being abused by her adoptive parents—and I willingly gave up my childhood engagement to the story’s male lead.
I walked away from the Monroe family with nothing, ready to pursue my own happiness: Craig Robinson.
In the book, he was the rich, handsome second male lead, the one who would ultimately sacrifice everything for the heroine.
I helped him rise from the ashes of a corporate takeover, helped him reclaim his empire. Along the way, I even saved the story’s third male lead, the villainous Leo, from his self-destructive path of opposing the heroine.
But I forgot one crucial detail. Craig’s heart was always meant for the heroine. I forgot that Leo’s opposition to her stemmed from a deep, unrequited love that had twisted into obsession.
From start to finish, their devotion was always, irrevocably, for her.
And I was just collateral damage.
…
Leo stood over my body for what felt like an eternity. I searched his face for any flicker of guilt, of regret. There was none.
After about an hour, he finally moved. He closed the door, acting as if nothing had happened, and walked away with the same steady, measured steps as always.
He went back to the hospital and stood guard outside Chloe’s room. In the original story, he had been her bodyguard, silently protecting the object of his pure, burning love.
Late that night, after the Monroes had left, Craig stayed behind to watch over Chloe. Only when she was sound asleep did he step out for a breath of fresh air. He saw Leo and pulled out a cigarette, asking casually, “Where’s Anya?”
As he was about to light it, he seemed to remember something. He put the lighter back in his pocket, holding the unlit cigarette between his fingers, just for the feel of it. He was always so willing to change his bad habits for Chloe. I hated the smell of smoke too, but he never cared about that.
“In the basement,” Leo replied.
Craig nodded, unconcerned. “Make sure she doesn’t cause any trouble.”
“She won’t. Not ever again.”
“What?” Leo’s voice was low, almost a mumble. Craig hadn’t heard him clearly.
Leo seemed to snap back to himself. “She’s being very good,” he said.
This time, Craig heard. A cold, mocking smile twisted his lips.
“She always plays the victim after she screws up. Does she really think I’ll let her off easy because of our past? Not this time. This time, I’m going to make her regret ever being born.” He viciously stubbed the unlit cigarette out on the side of a trash can.
Leo’s expression flickered for a moment.
“Within three days,” Craig commanded, “I want one hundred written apologies from her. And I want her kneeling outside this hospital. She can get up when Chloe forgives her.”
Leo stood outside the hospital for a long time after receiving his orders. I don’t know what he was thinking. Maybe he was imagining how much more satisfying it would be if I were still alive, kneeling there with a hundred pages of apologies in my hands.

3
Back in the basement, Leo wiped the blood from my body with a towel, lifted me onto the makeshift bed, and then meticulously cleaned the floor. His face was a blank mask, his movements efficient and practiced, like a crime scene cleaner.
When he was done, he took out a pen and paper.
“This is a critical time for Mr. Robinson and Chloe. Your actions can’t be allowed to ruin the happiness she deserves… You stole her life for more than a decade. You owe her this. But, as compensation… I’ll write the hundred apologies for you.”
He was so generous. He sat there, next to my corpse, and began to forge my handwriting.
The first time he’d done that was a year ago. Chloe had gone to a club to see the male lead, the reckless playboy Lucas Sterling, and had almost been assaulted by a group of thugs. The Monroes were incredibly strict and never allowed their children in places like that. Chloe had always been a wild child, but she craved her family’s affection. I had covered for her countless times to help her bond with them. So, that time, it was easy for her to say that I was the one who had invited her.
For Craig’s and Leo’s sakes, I had been trying to distance myself from her, so I denied it. But Leo produced a note, in my handwriting, proving my “guilt.” Somehow, they even got the thugs to confess that I had hired them.
It was the first time the Monroes looked at me with disappointment and disgust. And it was the first time Craig saw the “vicious, evil” side of my nature.
Leo had always believed that Chloe and Lucas were a bad match. He felt that a goddess like Chloe deserved to be cherished and loved, the way I was. He believed that Craig was her true soulmate. More than once, he had said, in front of both me and Chloe, that she would be much happier with Craig than with Lucas.
When I first read the book, I thought so too. Craig’s silent, lifelong devotion to Chloe was heartbreaking. The other women around him were just annoying obstacles.
Except now, I was one of them. The one he betrayed.
The boomerang had come back around, and it hit me right in the heart.
Over the next three days, Leo wrote day and night, producing one hundred perfect apologies. By the time he was finished, my body had started to smell. He bought armfuls of potpourri and incense to cover the scent, and then filled the room with bags of ice.
Craig was very pleased with the apologies.
“Where is she?”
“She…” Leo, exhausted and sporting dark circles under his eyes, was slow to respond. “She can’t come.”
Craig’s face twisted into a furious sneer. “Can’t come? She caused a car crash that nearly killed Chloe, and she can’t even be bothered to apologize in person? It seems I’ve spoiled her over the years! I was going to let her off easy, but she just had to push it!”
Even as a spirit, I felt my chest tighten until I couldn’t breathe. The pain wasn’t physical, but it was etched into my very soul.

4
Chloe stayed in the hospital for seven days.
In those seven days, Lucas never once showed up.
But Craig was by her side the entire time, day and night.
“Craig,” Chloe finally whispered, her voice choked with tears. “I wish you were him.”
Craig’s heart ached for her. He gently pulled her into his arms, letting her cry into his shirt. He stroked her hair, murmuring words of comfort. “Whenever you need me, I’ll be here.”
I sat beside them, a silent ghost, watching the arms that once held only me now cradle another woman. I felt no sadness, no joy. Nothing.
The truth was, the car crash had been partly Chloe’s doing. In the novel, the heroine often resorted to self-harm to get the male lead’s attention. But she could never let anyone know it was intentional, or Lucas and her family would see her differently. So, once again, I became the scapegoat. She probably thought a hospital stay would be enough to bring Lucas running back.
But it wasn’t.
After seven days, Chloe was discharged. The entire Monroe family dropped everything to come and get her. Once again, she was their beloved princess.
“Mom, I want ice cream!”
“You just recovered! No ice cream! Thank God you didn’t scar…” Mrs. Monroe lovingly stroked Chloe’s forehead.
“If she had even one scar, I’d go and carve up Anya’s face myself!” Ethan declared, his voice filled with righteous anger. The rest of the family nodded in agreement, their eyes burning with a hatred so intense it felt like they wanted to tear me limb from limb.
“It… it wasn't really her fault…” Chloe mumbled, looking down. But she would never tell them the truth.
Craig’s eyes also flashed with anger, but ultimately, I was his responsibility. “I’m sorry,” he said to the Monroes. “I apologize on her behalf. As compensation, I’ll have her transfer ownership of the heart-shaped island to you.”
The heart-shaped island. The first gift Craig ever gave me. A symbol of our love.
“Really?” Chloe’s eyes lit up.
“Of course.”
“But… won’t Anya be upset? I offered to buy it from her before, for a lot of money, and she refused.” Chloe looked down, feigning disappointment.
Craig’s lip curled. “This is what she owes you. What right does she have to be upset?”
In that single moment, every hope, every last shred of feeling I had for him, shattered.
I collapsed in the corner, watching as Chloe jumped for joy.
“Ah!” she cried out, twisting her ankle.
Craig caught her, his voice a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “Be careful. Don’t you know your foot is still injured?”
Chloe pouted. “I was just so happy!”
Craig gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “If I’d known it would make you this happy, I would have given it to you sooner…”
The last bit of light in my spectral eyes faded. I couldn’t watch anymore. I floated away, back to the only place I wanted to be. Back to my body.
That evening, Leo came back with a contract.
“Mr. Robinson is transferring the island to Chloe. It’s what you owe her…”
I watched him as he rambled on, then signed my name in his perfect forgery and pressed my thumb to the ink.
“Mr. Robinson is taking Chloe to the island for a vacation. Don’t be upset. I’ll stay here with you.”
He seemed to notice the chill coming from my body and pulled a thin blanket over me.
His mind, I think, was starting to unravel.

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