Scattered on the Wind

In the end, Dean reported the incident to the police on grounds of intentional assault. Morgan was too weak to resist, her body still drained from giving blood, and was dragged straight to the detention station.

Those three days were the darkest in her life. In the holding cell, the other inmates took every opportunity to bully her, a pretty university girl, with fists, slaps, hair-pulling… Everything was routine. They snatched the barely edible prison meals from her, shoved her onto the filthy floor, and humiliated her at every breath.

Each breath she breathed carried the taste of blood and despair; every second stretched out like a century. However, the physical pain was nothing compared to the devastation crushing her spirit. All her pride, dignity, and dreams for the future were destroyed. She would rather be dead than alive.

Finally, after enduring the worst, she dragged her battered body back to her apartment. She was just about to unlock the door when a sudden, sharp pain shot through the back of her neck. Darkness swarmed her vision, and a bag was forced over her head. Then came the heavy blows of iron rods raining down like relentless hail.

The pain was so unbearable that she coughed up a mouthful of blood, every bone in her body screaming as though it would shatter at any moment. In the haze, she heard a familiar voice. It was Jake!

Someone asked, “Jake, hasn’t Dean dealt with her for breaking Hazel’s car brake? Why are you still–”

Jake’s voice was cold, merciless. “That is my brother, and I am me. Touch a hair on Hazel’s head, and she will pay ten times the price. This is just the beginning.”

The bag was yanked open just enough for her to glimpse, and then slimy, writhing shapes were thrown inside, coiling around her neck and arms. Hissing filled her ears. Snakes were her greatest fear.

Terror gripped her heart, suffocating her, and no matter how desperately she struggled, she could not make a sound. The bag was tightened again, and the next second, she was lifted into the air and violently thrown into the icy river.

Water filled her lungs, and panic drowned her completely.

“Help… someone… Help me…”

Time blurred. When she thought death was inevitable, someone finally dragged her out, tossing her like garbage onto a deserted road. The moment the bag was removed, Morgan coughed violently, spitting out mud and water, her vision blurry. Her soaked body throbbed with pain, each injury stinging from the cold.

Teeth chattering uncontrollably, she used every ounce of strength to crawl out. Rainwater and tears streamed down her face as she struggled to stand, but darkness swept over her again, and she lost consciousness. When she woke again, she was lying in a hospital bed.

A nurse, speaking as if reading from a script, said, “You’re awake? Your medical fees are unpaid.”

Morgan struggled to her feet, leaning on the wall as she made her way to the payment counter.

At the corner of the hallway, she collided with Dean and Jake, who had just come out of a VIP ward. Both looked startled to see her.

Dean spoke first, frowning. “Why are you in the hospital?”

His eyes scanned the hospital gown and the bruises visible beneath it.

Morgan said nothing. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the man standing beside Dean—Jake, the man who looked identical to Dean but radiated a completely different presence.

Dean’s expression shifted slightly, and he introduced naturally. “This is my younger brother, Jake. He just returned to the country and came to visit Hazel.”

Then, speaking to Jake, he said, “Jake, this is Morgan. I… She’s my girlfriend.”

Jake smiled flawlessly, as if meeting her for the first time, and said politely, “Hello, Morgan.”

Watching the two of them perform this absurd act right in front of her, Morgan could not help but laugh, with tears streaming down her face. At her uncharacteristic smile, the two brothers felt an inexplicable pang of unease and strangeness sweep through them.

Dean frowned, his tone sharp. “Now that your detention is over, remember this lesson. Stay in line and don’t hurt Hazel again.”

A nurse walked out of Hazel’s ward with some words, and both brothers immediately turned and entered, leaving Morgan ignored. Through the glass on the ward door, she watched them fuss over Hazel with care and tenderness. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably, but she wiped them away fiercely.

Just then, her phone rang. It was the school.

“Morgan, your withdrawal papers have been processed.”

“Thank you,” she replied, voice calm and even.

She hung up, returned to her apartment, and silently packed her meager belongings. Then, without a word, she headed straight to the airport and boarded a flight to another country.

It wasn't until that evening that Dean finally remembered Morgan. He took out his phone, found Morgan's number, and dialed.