Chapter 4: Hospital Games

By the time my brother Ben barrels into the ER, I’m propped up in a hospital bed, the AC humming, munching on a Granny Smith apple and scrolling through my phone.

Mr. Grant stands just outside the door, arms folded, blocking Jason from barging in—no exceptions, even for the star-crossed victim.

And the lighter? It looked dramatic but wasn’t dangerous. Mr. Grant had tested it himself—it popped, smoked, but never exploded. Would I really risk my own life otherwise? Please. I’m not that reckless.

My moment of unconsciousness? Pure acting. Nicole Reed never loses her head.

My goal: to break the deadlock Nicole’s scheming left behind. I needed to shake things up, give Jason a reason to see me differently.

Ben doesn’t waste any time giving me an earful. He’s dressed in jeans and a Carhartt jacket, classic Midwest older brother energy.

“You—day after day, I don’t even know what you’re up to.”

“Weren’t you all about that theater guy last month? Now you’re mixed up with this mess?”

“I heard that actor proposed to you and you rejected him in public—humiliating!”

I snort, rolling my eyes. “Him? Marry me? He’s not worthy.”

In the original plot, Lucas Carter would marry into the Reed family, living off our money. But the moment Jason came back and bankrupted us, Lucas took off faster than a squirrel with a dog on its tail—cleaning out Nicole’s accounts before ghosting her for good. Nice guy, huh?

“When I got here, that cripple was causing a fuss, insisting on seeing you, looking frantic.” Ben shakes his head.

“What, he still doesn’t know you broke his leg?”

I pop another apple slice, cool as a cucumber. “No need to see him. When you leave, have two people guard my door—let him wait a few days.”

Ben leans in, lowering his voice, “Be careful, he’s crippled because of you. Don’t stir up more trouble.”

I wave him off. “I’m helping him. He’s a business genius. What future is there in just dancing?”

At first, all I wanted was to shake off Nicole’s villain label. But after actually meeting Jason—watching him hustle, seeing his grit—I found myself wanting more.

After I get settled in, Jason starts coming by the hospital every night after his shift. Sometimes he brings homemade soup—he even gets Mr. Grant to deliver it when he’s running late.

He always brings two containers, one for me and one for Rachel, since she’s laid up in the next ward. Guess he’s playing good guy all the way.

But I refuse to share anything with Rachel Collins. No way. I tip the soup down the drain, watching the cloudy broth spiral away—one less thing for Rachel to gloat about.

Lucas Carter, never one to miss drama, hears I’m laid up and shows up with the biggest bouquet Walmart sells. As luck would have it, he runs into Jason in the hallway.

“Why are you here?” Lucas sneers, eyes lingering on the lunchbox Jason clutches.

“Still trying to please Nicole? You think you can get back on stage like this?”

“Look at yourself—how can you compare to me now?”

Jason stands tall, despite his limp. “You only get roles by sucking up—what are you bragging for?”

Lucas, never one to back down from a challenge, shoves Jason. With Jason’s bum leg, he stumbles, soup splattering across the linoleum. The moment is humiliating, raw.

Rachel hovered in the hallway, clutching her thermos like a shield, eyes wide and wary.

When I throw open my door to the commotion, Jason is cradling Rachel, shielding her as if she’s made of porcelain.