The Psychotic Girl’s Revenge

The two stood by the river, staring at each other in silence.

Everything around them seemed frozen, even the wind had stopped moving. Her entire world shrank to just one sentence: *Paige, my head is starting to hurt again.*

“You know about medicinal witchcraft, tell me-am I going to relapse?” Enrico stared at her, his words measured and deliberate.

Paige snapped back to reality and walked over, grabbing his wrist to check his pulse.

Enrico glanced down at his wrist, noticing that her hand was trembling slightly.

Paige struggled to calm her nerves, trying to feel his pulse, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t focus. Frustrated, she lowered her hand and looked up at him, trying to keep her voice steady. “Besides the headaches, are there any other symptoms?”

“You mean hallucinations?” Enrico responded, his voice eerily calm, as if he understood his illness better than anyone.

Paige’s lips turned pale.

The white horse behind them continued to pace lazily. Enrico, watching her reaction, suddenly smirked and reached for the reins. “Relax, I was just messing with you. I’ve just been overwhelmed with work ever since coming back from River Town.”NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.

Paige stood frozen.

“Come on, let’s take a few more laps,” Enrico said, preparing to mount the horse. But his arm was suddenly grabbed.

He turned and saw Paige standing beside him, her face pale as she stared at him. Her eyes, always clear, were now filled with a quiet determination, refusing to let him brush this off.

Enrico tried to pull away, but she only tightened her grip.

His hand slipped from the reins, and he spoke with feigned indifference. “It’s nothing serious. Lately, when you cancel on me, I keep staring at my phone, and sometimes I think you’ve replied. It’s not a hallucination-just… wishful thinking, maybe?”

Wishful thinking, not a precursor to a relapse.

So, he wasn’t sick.

A breeze blew by, and Paige shivered slightly. She kept her eyes on him. “Why didn’t you tell me this immediately?”

“I already told you, it’s not a hallucination,” Enrico answered casually.

“Then what would qualify as a hallucination?” Paige pressed further.

At this, Enrico shrugged. “At the very least, it would have to be like three years ago.”

Three years ago…

Paige remembered what Dr. Clinton once said:

*”Miss, have you ever considered that intense, lingering longing… is itself a kind of trigger?”*

Enrico, leading the horse, walked ahead. Paige caught up, walking alongside him, and asked, “The night you had your episode three years ago-did you experience hallucinations then, too?”

She had been hesitant to bring this up before, but now, she felt it was unavoidable.

Enrico’s grip on the reins tightened, and he responded irritably, “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you anything.”

Now she wouldn’t stop asking.

“Enrico…” Paige’s voice was filled with urgency.

“Yes.” Enrico finally admitted, “That night, I saw you everywhere. At the door, on the bed, on the balcony, in the bathroom. I knew it was all in my head, but I didn’t care. And then, I made the mistake of drinking a cup of medicine. After that, the hallucinations disappeared.”

He called the disappearance of his hallucinations a *mistake.*

Paige’s eyes reddened slightly. “And after that?”

“And after that?” Enrico continued, leading the horse in a circle before looking back at her, his eyes dark and deep like a bottomless pit. “After that, I went searching for you. But before I knew it, I had lost track of everything.”

Paige felt her heart twist painfully. She quickly turned her head to hide her tears.

“You feeling sorry for me?” Enrico asked, watching her.

Paige blinked rapidly to clear her eyes, feeling a surge of guilt. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have broken my promises.”

How could she have forgotten that he had waited for her for so long?

“Good. Just don’t do it again. Next time, I’ll relapse on purpose!” Enrico said arrogantly.

Though meant to comfort her, his words didn’t bring Paige any relief. She hurriedly assured him, “You won’t relapse. And even if you do, I can cure you. It’s no longer an incurable condition.”

Yes, she could cure him.

“I know that.” Enrico replied, walking ahead with the horse. He wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise.

“So don’t worry.” Paige said firmly. “I’m already searching for new golden bees. Once I find them, I’ll raise them-just in case.”

“Okay.”

Paige walked on the other side of the horse, looking at him under the sunlight. “It’s just an illness.”

She wanted him to know it wasn’t something to dwell on.

“You talk too much. I get it,” Enrico responded, sounding slightly irritated. But as he walked, his eyes darkened, and his grip on the reins tightened.

That evening, Paige returned with Enrico to his private estate.

While Enrico worked in the study, Paige had no mind for tasks. She slowly ascended the stairs and opened a hidden door.

The secret room within revealed itself.

Since returning to the capital, she had been too busy to even step foot in here.

Paige walked slowly into the room. Her shoes echoed softly against the floor. The room was sparsely furnished, and a large bed stood in the center, encased in a cage of iron bars…

She stood there, quietly taking in the sight, her hands slowly clenching at her sides.

The room seemed untouched, as if it had been locked in the madness and longing of three years ago.

This was where he had stayed, his soul entirely trapped.

Paige walked closer, examining the bed. Several of the iron bars were bent, twisted almost beyond recognition.

How much strength would it take to do that…?

She could almost picture Enrico, wracked with pain during his episodes, taking it out on the bars, yet unable to escape.

Like a wild beast in a forest, clinging to the edge of a cliff with no way out but to dig its claws into the rock.

Paige ran her fingers over the bent bars, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She pressed a button.

With a soft click, the cage surrounding the bed rose, leaving the bed uncovered.

She bent down, trembling, and lifted the corner of the blanket. The bed was cold.

Paige stared at it, almost able to see Enrico, defiant and proud, curled up on that cold bed, enduring night after night.

How unbearable must those nights have been?

And yet, since he had regained his memory, he had never spoken of it.

Paige stood there for a long time. She pulled the blanket back up, but halfway through, something caught her eye. Her hand froze.

She stiffened, her eyes widening in disbelief as she looked at the bed’s headboard. There, faintly scratched into the wood, was part of her name.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. Paige’s eyes flew open in realization. She tore the blanket aside, grabbed the pillow, and threw it to the floor.

Everything was exposed. The leather headboard beneath the pillow was carved with words-row after row.