Stolen Body, Shattered Heart
Chapter 1
In the sixth year, after the invader took over her body, Dorothy finally regained control.
But she never expected that Kyrie, the man who had once loved her with everything he had, had already moved on.
He had fallen for the invader and in turn, he now harbored a deep, seething hatred for Dorothy, the woman who had taken back her body.
He drowned himself in alcohol, letting the haze of liquor numb his soul.
He found solace in a substitute, yet his torment of Dorothy never ceased.
In the dead of night, he'd grip her throat, his bloodshot eyes seething as he growled, "Give her back to me!"
"If she can’t return, then you should just die!"
"As you wish."
Later, Dorothy left behind a note, diagnosing herself with severe depression. Then, right before Kyrie’s eyes, she leaped into the sea, her body swallowed by the waves.
***
"It’s been so long. Is she going to jump or not?"
"Some people just like to stage suicide attempts for attention these days."
"I bet she doesn't have the guts to jump."
A crowd had gathered below, forming a curious circle as they pointed, whispered and gossiped.
Dorothy sat on the edge, her eyes empty and distant, her ears filled with their sharp remarks.
She hadn’t wanted attention, only to sit quietly, letting the cool breeze wash over her. But somehow, she'd become the center of their idle chatter.
"Miss, your condition is quite severe. I strongly recommend hospitalization."
The doctor's words still lingered in her mind, his voice echoing in her ears like a distant, forgotten sound. Dorothy Howell's fingers curled slightly as her gaze fell, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.
She had no money for treatment.
Nor did she want any.
At that moment, sirens grew louder and the firefighters arrived, rushing toward her with quick, comforting words.
"Miss, nothing in this world can’t be overcome. Why think of taking your life?"
"Exactly! No challenge is too big to face."
As their voices reached her, Dorothy’s eyes began to water, the weight of their words slowly sinking in. Her body stiffened, but finally, she stepped back from the rooftop edge.
"Sorry, I…"
She hadn’t finished when a cold, biting voice sliced through the air.
A tall figure cut through the crowd, moving with urgency.
"Dorothy!"
Her heart lurched as she met his eyes, eyes that held nothing but coldness.
Kyrie Leonard had arrived.
One of the firefighters, eager to settle the situation, spoke up. "Mr. Leonard, you came just in time. Please, talk to your wife."
Kyrie’s gaze fixed on Dorothy, his voice mocking. "A stunt, Dorothy? Really?"
A bitter laugh escaped him, filled with disdain.
Dorothy tried to speak, but before she could find her words, the sharp crack of a slap rang out across the air.
"Who gave you permission to die?"
The force of it made her stumble, her body collapsing to the ground.
For a moment, everything was still. The world had gone silent.
The crowd was stunned, their mouths hanging open as they watched Kyrie provoke her in such a fragile moment.
"You’re wasting public resources. My apologies. I’ll take her now."
Kyrie’s voice was calm, almost polite, as he nodded toward the firefighters before roughly pulling Dorothy to her feet and dragging her away from the onlookers.
For a fleeting moment, the world held its breath, then, like a dam breaking, the air buzzed with whispers.
"If I’m not wrong, isn’t that Dorothy and Kyrie?"
"Wasn’t he known as the perfect, devoted husband? Their wedding was the talk of the town. It’s still being broadcast at Leonard Corporation."
"But if he loved her, why did he hit her?"
***
The whispers felt like daggers, each sinking deeper into Dorothy’s chest, pulling at the numbness she had long since become familiar with.
Kyrie had been the perfect husband, the kind of man everyone envied.
But he had never loved her.
Dorothy allowed herself to be dragged, her body a lifeless marionette in his hands.
Kyrie shoved her into the car, his grip tightening around her throat.
"Dorothy, don’t think for a second. I don’t know exactly what you’re doing!"
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