Chapter 50
Each morning, Andrea forced herself out of bed, but her body felt heavier with every passing moment. The bruises on her arms from being shoved, the cruel notes slipped under her door, and the mocking laughter in the hallways had all taken their toll.
The worst part wasn’t the physical pain—it was the loneliness. The mockery.
Her Joker card sat on her desk, its garish grin a cruel reminder of how far she’d fallen. Andrea stared at it often, wondering if she would ever feel the strength she once had as Queen of Hearts.
Even her professors, who had once praised her work, now barely acknowledged her. When she approached one after class, hoping for advice about an upcoming project, he waved her off without even looking up from his papers.
“Talk to your group leader, Andrea,” he said dismissively. “I’m sure they can guide you.”
Andrea clenched her fists, biting back the tears that threatened to spill. She didn’t have a group leader—no one wanted to work with her.
The final blow came during one of her errands for Damian. She was in the library’s restricted section, organizing documents for him, when she overheard his voice.
“I mean, she’s fine as an assistant,” Damian was saying, his tone casual, “but leadership? No. Andrea’s not really capable of that.”
Andrea froze, her heart sinking.
“Really?” another student asked.
Damian shrugged. “She’s good at following instructions, but that’s about it. Some people just aren’t cut out for more.”
The words hit Andrea like a slap. She wanted to storm out, to confront him, to demand how he could say such things after all they’d been through. But instead, she stayed frozen in place, the weight of his dismissal crushing her.
Andrea didn’t remember how she got back to her dorm room that day. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts she couldn’t silence.
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe I’m not good enough.
Maybe I never was.
She barely ate in the cafeteria anymore. The mocking glances and whispered insults were too much to bear. Her meals consisted of whatever scraps she could find in her dorm, but even then, she struggled to keep food down.
By the weekend, Andrea didn’t even bother getting out of bed. She skipped all her classes and ignored the growing pile of assignments on her desk.
She felt herself sinking, deeper and deeper into a pit of despair. Her dreams, when they came, were filled with mocking laughter and the haunting face of the Joker card.
On the third night, Andrea lay awake in her dark room, her thoughts racing. She stared at the rope in her hands, its rough fibers digging into her palms.
The idea had been circling her mind for days now, creeping in whenever the weight of everything felt unbearable. She tried to shake it off, but it clung to her like a shadow, whispering that there was no escape.
Finally, Andrea sat up, the room spinning slightly from how weak she felt. She slipped the rope into her bag and left her dorm.
The air outside was cold and crisp, the campus silent under the soft glow of the moon. Andrea walked slowly, her footsteps crunching on the gravel path.
The rose garden loomed ahead, overgrown and wild. It had been weeks since she’d last come here, but it still felt strangely familiar.
Andrea stepped inside, the faint scent of roses lingering in the air. She paused near the old bench where she had once drawn her Queen of Hearts card. The memory felt distant now, like a dream she’d barely woken from.
She traced her fingers over the weathered wood of the bench, her chest tightening. That moment had been one of hope, of power, of belonging. And now…
Andrea swallowed hard, tears brimming in her eyes. She pulled the rope from her bag, her hands trembling as she tied it to the branch of an old, sturdy tree.
Her breaths came in shallow gasps as she worked, the sound of the rope brushing against the bark sending a chill down her spine.
Andrea stood beneath the tree, staring up at the loop she had created. The moonlight filtered through the branches, casting eerie shadows on the ground.
This is it.
