CHAPTER 4

A signature that had changed everything, a petition that had changed the course of two lives, they were but puppets of the same life, the same destiny that only seemed to be written by those who had brought them to life. Life was never given as a gift, as a right, at least not in their world, in the world of people who liberated a lower world. To give life was to give the opportunity to continue to be the one who sat on the throne from where they could see everything, decide for everything and make as many changes as they wished.

With his thoughts entirely on the woman he had left behind without looking, without wondering for a moment how much she might be needing him, Brandon continued on his way to the hospital exit and then to his car.

And in the total loneliness in which a soul can find itself, Brandon continued on his way. 

He could not get out of his mind the images of that woman who, with tears of terror or hate, was able to become strong in front of him.

That was the destiny of all those who were born into that world, to be puppets of those who had given them life. Nothing in the world was free, nothing in the world was given for free, even if it seemed otherwise. And just as the Lambert family had done with Brandon, he was doing the same with someone else. Now he understood, he was always a tool of life, just as his mother might have been at the time, his father and even his brother, the same one who was gone. The same one who was no longer there. Could it be possible that his role in life was different from what it was at that moment? What role would he have taken on if his brother continued to enjoy life as he did at the time? The truth is that they were just words and questions that were superfluous because the present did not change, the present remained the same and he had just handed over a woman to do what was best for a family that did not see beyond money and power. 

Upset, feeling like the trash he really was, Brandon slammed the steering wheel of his car as the car stayed on the white line waiting for the light to change its color. 

And even knowing how bad it was, knowing he was ceasing to be human, he still went ahead with the plan. 

The images of that crying Cristal, who asked without really doing it, came to his mind over and over again. In front of his eyes she was strapped to the gurney and how an unscrupulous jerk was able to leave a white rose in her hands, celebrating what shouldn’t have ever been celebrated so that he could take advantage of her for signifying the miracle of life? 

Not bearing what she felt in her heart, that weight of guilt, she picked up her cell phone ready to call the only person who seemed to genuinely care about her. 

"Hello, this is Sebastian Sanchez, can I help you?" The man answered. 

"Sebastian, it's me, Brandon Lambert.”

He immediately felt Sebastian's tone of voice change. Needless to say that he couldn't even bear to know that it was him calling him. 

"What do you want?” 

"It's about…”

"Crystal? How's Crystal? Where is she? What did you do to her? Because I swear, if I find out you've hurt her, I'll kill you, I'll kill you, asshole!" Sebastian threatened without letting him speak. 

"She is in the hospital.” 

And without another word, Brandon hung up the call. There was no reason to keep listening to his claims when he already knew how savage he had been.

On the other end of the line, just an angry person who wanted to know more. 

"Brandon, what do you mean he's in the hospital? Brandon, you asshole, I'm talking to you!”

And knowing that there was no way to call him back, Sebastian took off the robe he was working with and then took the keys of his car and went to the place where surely Cristal could not feel more hopeless. 

A fifteen"minute drive that had the power to become the drive of a lifetime.

What had happened to her? He had left her at home, calm, nothing seemed to bother her, she looked really calm and also resigned. Was it that jerk who had caused her instability? 

Skidding the tires against the pavement on the last right turn, Sebastian made it to the hospital.

He didn't care if the car was parked properly, he could only keep Crystal and her well-being in mind. 

Third office on the right. Crystal ended up zipping up the zipper of his sweatshirt while he kept her gaze lost. 

The humiliation had passed but the pain of it seemed to be eternal. It didn't matter anymore if the world wanted to continue to outrage her, by that time it had become clear to her how fragile she could be. 

Pregnant, from that moment on she could already say that she was expecting a child she did not want, a child that was not the product of love or any kind of affection because as many had said, it had been a child created in a laboratory, with a father who had been chosen and who would only function as another tool.

The door to her room opened promptly, without warning. It was Sebastian himself who appeared once again in front of her as the prince who had gone there to save her. 

"Sebastian!" She called out, feeling useless. 

"Crystal, what happened?!" Sebastian demanded to know as he hugged her tightly. 

And she, taking him as her only support in life, clung to that embrace being the only thing she could have in life. 

That was not the moment to ask, it was the exact moment to comfort her, to heal her heart, to let her know with that embrace more things than he could tell her with words. 

"Sebastian!" She called out between the tears.

"Shh, I'm with you, Crystal, I'm with you no matter what.” 

Minutes went by like that, crying for what she couldn't change, crying for feeling so lonely at the same time that she felt like she was alone, mattered to only one person in the world. That moment had marked the beginning and the end of a new cycle. And Brandon Lambert was going to regret everything he had done to her, she didn't know when, she didn't know how, but she was going to get back at him sooner or later. 

Her revenge was going to start soon. And maybe she had found the right person to see him as her support when she needed it. Brandon’s life was going to be as miserable as hers, or even worse. A living hell is the least she could prepare for him. 

‘Let’s see who plays better, Brandon Lambert. Let’s see who is better in this game you started. You shouldn’t have done that. Now you see the consequences of this little game you started because by my side I have a new friend of mine.’