The Heiress's Comeback-Chapter 151: [Volume 1] - - Nothing matters.

Ryan exhaled slowly, his calm demeanor a sharp contrast to the panic swirling around the room. His gaze settled on Esme, bound tightly to the bed, her face contorted in agony. He rubbed his palms together before speaking, his voice low, "It’s okay. She’s not going to die... maybe."

The room fell silent for a heartbeat, everyone snapping their eyes toward him in disbelief. Aron, who had been pacing furiously near the door, stopped dead in his tracks. His face darkened, frustration evident in every line of his body as he stalked toward Ryan. "What the hell do you mean maybe?" Aron’s voice was loud, edged with anger and disbelief. "You’re a doctor, Ryan! You can’t just say maybe."

Ryan stood his ground, his expression unwavering, though a muscle in his jaw twitched. "I said, she’s not going to die," he repeated, his tone firm but devoid of panic. Yet, the uncertainty still hung in the air, tangible, impossible to ignore.

Aron’s frustration redirected to Jay, who stood on the other side of Esme, his medical kit in hand. His face was tight with concentration, his hands still as he adjusted the equipment around Esme’s bed. "And you," Aron growled, eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and desperation, "you’re supposed to be the scientist. You created this chemical—how the hell do you not have an antidote ready for her? Isn’t this your job?"

Jay winced, his grip on the kit tightening. The accusation hit harder than Aron could possibly know. His voice was low but strained when he finally spoke. "We gave her the antidote," Jay said, his words slow, deliberate.

"And it’s made her worse," Aron spat, throwing a hand toward Esme’s trembling form as she writhed against the restraints. "Look at her! She’s in more pain now than before!"

Jay’s lips thinned, his eyes flicking to Esme’s contorted face. "No, it’s not," he replied, shaking his head. "It’s working. It’s just taking time."

Aron’s face twisted in confusion, the fury in his eyes shifting into something closer to fear. He stepped forward, desperate now. "What do you mean ’taking time’? How long are we supposed to wait, Jay?" His voice cracked, thick with worry. "Until she dies?"

A tense silence settled over the room as everyone’s eyes darted between Esme and the two men arguing over her fate. Jay opened his mouth but hesitated, his gaze locked on the girl’s trembling hands. She let out a strangled cry, her body jerking violently, and Aron’s breath hitched. He stepped back, running a hand through his hair, overwhelmed.

Ryan finally stepped forward, sensing the desperation in the air. His voice cut through the tension, steady and deliberate. "She’s not going to die," he repeated, this time more certain. His eyes remained on Esme. "Even without the antidote, she wouldn’t die."

Aron turned to him, his expression unreadable. "What are you talking about?" His voice was barely a whisper now, the fight draining from him.

Ryan’s gaze softened as he stared at Esme, her body thrashing less violently now, though her face still showed signs of intense pain. "She’s a beast master," he explained quietly. "Her body isn’t like ours. It’s stronger. She can control beasts far more dangerous than this poison." His voice grew even softer, almost reverent. "Her body will fight this off. It’s just taking time."

Aron blinked, clearly trying to process Ryan’s words, but the doubt still lingered. He shifted on his feet, glancing at Jay, who simply nodded in agreement with Ryan’s assessment. "So what? We just stand here and watch her suffer?" Aron asked, his voice weak, the desperation still evident despite the logic being presented to him.

"No," Ryan answered, his tone gentle but firm. "We monitor her. Her body’s fighting, but we need to give her time. If we interfere too much, it might worsen her condition."

Jay, who had remained quiet, stepped closer, though the tension hadn’t left his face. "Ryan’s right," he added quietly. "The antidote is slow, but it’s working. Her body’s resilience is what’s keeping her alive right now. We just need to trust it."

Aron’s shoulders slumped, exhaustion written across his face. His eyes flicked to Esme, who was still shuddering under the restraints, her breaths labored but no longer frantic. "And what if it’s not enough?" he asked, barely able to voice the fear that gnawed at him.

Ryan’s expression softened further as he stared at Esme, the room now eerily quiet aside from the sounds of her breathing. "It will be enough," he said, his voice filled with a quiet conviction. "She’s stronger than this. She’s stronger than we think."

For a moment, the room was still, everyone watching Esme with bated breath. Aron stared at her, his jaw tight, his fists clenched at his sides as he forced himself to trust Ryan’s words. He shook his head slightly, exhaling in defeat.

Jay sighed, closing his medical kit, though his hands trembled with the weight of uncertainty. He glanced toward the monitors, then back at Esme. "We just have to trust her body knows what it’s doing."

Ryan, standing a bit straighter now, echoed the sentiment, though his eyes lingered on Esme with a deeper sense of responsibility. "We give her time," he said softly, almost as if he were trying to reassure himself as much as the others.

.....

Esme sat in the chair, enveloped by the endless void around her. Darkness stretched as far as her eyes could see, not a single flicker of light to break the suffocating gloom. Most people would find this terrifying, perhaps paralyzing, but for Esme, it was disturbingly familiar.

She had been here countless times before, in this shadowy abyss where time ceased to exist and everything fell silent. No insects buzzed, no wind stirred. It was an unnerving, complete stillness.

But in this oppressive quiet, she felt an odd sense of calm—a numbness she welcomed.

It was the only place she felt safe, where nothing could reach her, hurt her, or remind her of the chaos in her life.