The night before the dance competition, Isabella Montgomery was dragged into a dark alley. The screech of her high heels against the concrete echoed sharply. Seventeen minutes later, when a passerby found her, she was drenched in blood. Three months later, the medical report read: permanent damage to both legs, complete hearing loss in her left ear, and lifelong dependence on a catheter. "I’ll make them pay in blood!" Her brother, Alexander Montgomery, slammed his fist against the hospital wall. "Don’t be afraid. I’ll get you the best doctors in the world." Her fiancé, Ethan Harrison, held her hand and whispered reassurance. Isabella thought she at least had them. Until that afternoon. Her wheelchair stopped at the stairwell landing. The scent of cigarette smoke mixed with hushed voices drifted toward her. "Are you insane? We agreed she’d just miss the competition!" Ethan’s voice was low but sharp. Isabella’s fingers dug into the armrests. "Those guys didn’t know when to stop." Alexander exhaled a slow drag. "But it worked out. Sophia’s guaranteed to win now." "But she—" "Isabella grew up with everything handed to her. Even crippled, she’ll have servants. Sophia’s different. This is her only shot." Isabella’s heartbeat stuttered to a halt. "Ethan, bros before hoes." Alexander’s voice was a dull blade. "You promised you wouldn’t choose Isabella over Sophia." A long silence. Then Ethan sighed. "Get her the strongest painkillers." Footsteps faded away. A tear splashed onto Isabella’s hand. So it wasn’t an accident. It was murder. She once believed she was the Montgomery family’s brightest jewel. At fourteen, Sophia Clark stood in the living room in a faded dress, timidly calling her "sister." Isabella gave her own princess gown to Sophia, not knowing it was the start of a nightmare. Sophia broke an antique and blamed her. Sophia "lost" her competition pass and called it an accident. Every time, Alexander would say, "Isabella, stop making trouble." Ethan always urged, "Let Sophia have this one." Then it got worse. The competition she stayed up preparing for? Sophia took the prize. The spotlight she danced her heart out for? Sophia stood beneath it. She thought she wasn’t good enough. Now she understood. Someone had been handing her life, piece by piece, to Sophia. Her phone buzzed suddenly. Unknown number. "Miss Montgomery, this is Nova Pharmaceuticals." "What do you want?" Her voice was raw. "We can make you walk again." Isabella laughed, the sound like shattering glass. "Bone regeneration. Hearing restoration. A return to the stage." The voice continued. "Only those utterly broken deserve rebirth." Sunlight through the window stung her eyes. "Fine." She turned her wheelchair around. Her grip on the phone tightened, as if clutching her last lifeline.