My Death Countdown (by Netulla) novel Chapter 6

Chapter 6

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Sylvia waited three hours, but Adrien never came back.

In the afternoon, a light rain began to fall. Losing patience, she decided to wheel herself down the mountain.

Although the cemetery had accessible pathways, the slope was steep. She misjudged her strength, and the wheelchair hit a railing and tipped over.

She tumbled all the way down the path, scraping her hands and face. A cut on her forehead bled steadily, the blood washed away by the rain.

Lying alone on the ground, unnoticed, she could do nothing but watch the raindrops fall.

The cold made her shiver uncontrollably. She bit her lip to hold back the pain spreading across her body.

But time dragged on painfully slow.

She didn’t know how long she’d been lying there. Just when she thought she would freeze to death, Adrien finally came rushing back, holding an umbrella. He scooped her up and apologized with deep remorse.

Sylvia stared at him, her eyes hollow and lifeless.

“If my legs were still healthy, I might have been able to leave this place today.”

By the age of 18, Sylvia had changed entirely from the bright, lively girl she once was into someone unrecognizable.

Adrien’s heart sank. Shame and guilt washed over him. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze.

He slapped himself hard across the face.

“I’m sorry, Syl. I promise nothing like this will ever happen again.”

Over the next few days, Adrien’s guilt flared up again. He stayed by her side constantly.

Whether she was sunbathing or lost in thought, he was there. He brought her coffee, attended to her every need, and responded to every random thought she mentioned.

It almost felt like how things were seven years ago, before the accident.

But Sylvia knew better. Life didn’t offer second chances.

And all he was doing now was just temporary. It wouldn’t last.

Thus, she just watched silently, counting the days, waiting for the final day to come.

On Christmas Eve, their plane landed in Switzerland.

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Chapter 6

They had just reached the hotel when Adrien took a phone call.

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Half an hour later, he came out, grabbed his luggage, and turned to go. He mentioned only that he had an urgent mat- ter to attend to at the company.

Seeing how rushed he was, Sylvia asked softly, “Do you really have to go?”

Without hesitation, his voice firm, Adrien replied, “It’s urgent, Syl. Enjoy the snow by yourself for now. I’ll come back for you tomorrow.”

Sylvia didn’t try to stop him.

She also didn’t tell him that she’d be gone tomorrow.

She sat alone by the hotel’s floor–to–ceiling window all night, but the forecasted first snow never came.

At dawn, she received a message from Kiersten—a photo taken in a hospital room.

Adrien was sitting beside her, patiently peeling an orange for her, a tender smile in his eyes.

Sylvia stared at the photo for a long time.

When the sun rose, she rolled her wheelchair out of the hotel and made her way to Dignitas.

Before entering, she took one last look at the sky. Still, there was no sign of the snow she’d been waiting for.

Was everything a lie? Not just Adrien, but even the weather forecast proved untrustworthy.

On the last day of her life, she still didn’t get to see the first snow.

A faint, bitter smile touched her lips. Then she turned and slowly wheeled herself inside, toward her death.

Soon, the staff gently helped her onto the bed.

As part of the procedure, they asked her a few final questions.

“Ms. Rhodes, is there anyone you would like to see?”

“No.”

“Do you have any last words you would like us to pass on?”

“No.”

“Is there any unfulfilled wish we can help you with?”

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