Killed Me for Your Precious Angel? Now Pray She Can Save You from Hell - Chapter 56: Chapter 56

The surgical lights burned relentlessly at the end of the hospital corridor. Kaiden pressed his knuckles against the cold wall, listening to his own erratic heartbeat.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
He couldn't explain this restlessness clawing at his chest—like something crucial was slipping through his fingers. It felt like drowning in reverse, like oxygen was being sucked out of his lungs.
The cigarette pack in his pocket had been touched so many times the metal was creased and worn. By the time he shook out his third cigarette, he noticed his hands were trembling.
Get it together, Sheridan.
As the flame sparked to life, the familiar burn of nicotine hitting his lungs made him wince. Instead of calming him, it felt wrong—bitter and harsh.
Suddenly, an image crashed into his mind without warning—elegant fingers holding a half-smoked cigarette, freezing under a young woman's disapproving stare.
What the hell—
She wore a white sundress, cream dotting the ends of her hair like she'd just come from a bakery. Her face was radiant with indignation.
"You're smoking again!"
The girl frowned, her voice carrying both annoyance and genuine concern—like she actually gave a damn about his health.
He looked up at a face that was blurry but achingly familiar, and his chest tightened with recognition he couldn't place.
Who is she? Why does she look at me like... like she loves me?
Her lips moved, still scolding him, but he couldn't make out the words. All he could focus on were those bright eyes that seemed to see straight through to his soul—not with fear or calculation, but with pure, unguarded affection.
In the memory, he stared at her mouth with an unreadable expression, something dark and hungry flickering in his gaze. But in the end, he said nothing, just watched her like she was the most precious thing in the world.
"You have to stop!"
The girl's face remained frustratingly unclear, but he could see perfectly her slightly furrowed brow and the way her voice lifted with genuine care—not the fake concern he was used to.
No one talks to me like that. No one dares.
She suddenly snatched the cigarette from his fingers and threw it to the ground, stomping on it repeatedly with tiny, furious feet.
"Did you hear me, Kaiden Sheridan?!"
But I let her. Why did I let her?
He'd never allowed any woman within three feet of him, let alone tolerated someone taking his cigarettes. He'd broken men's hands for less.
But in the vision, he just watched her quietly, letting her grab the cigarette from between his fingers. When her palm brushed against his, he'd actually frozen—not with disgust, but with something that felt like reverence.
Like touching something sacred.
The burning sensation on his fingertips snapped him back to reality. Kaiden stared at the ash falling to the floor, an inexplicable frustration rising in his chest until he wanted to punch the wall.
What the fuck is happening to me?
Alina never tried to stop him from smoking—wouldn't dare. And she certainly didn't call him by his full name with that tone of loving exasperation.
Karina would never do it either. She was too calculating, too careful to risk his displeasure.
So who was this girl? And why does remembering her feel like losing something vital?
The harder he tried to remember, the worse his headache became. Something was battering against the walls of his mind, trying to break free, and the pain was making him nauseous.
Remember. I need to remember.
He pressed his knuckles to his temples until they went white, his breathing becoming shallow and rapid.
Why can't I see her face clearly? Why does my chest feel like it's caving in?
"Sir, there's no smoking in the hospital."
A passing nurse frowned at him.
He was about to tell her to fuck off when the roar of engines filled the air outside.
A silver plane was cutting through clouds, its tail catching the sunset in a cold, sharp arc.
For reasons he couldn't understand, his chest suddenly felt like someone had carved out a piece of it with a rusty knife.
No. No, something's wrong.
His face went pale as panic flooded his system—real, primal terror unlike anything he'd felt since childhood. Without thinking, he reached for his phone, his hands shaking so badly he could barely hold it.
That plane. I need to know where that plane is going. I need to—
"Mr. Sheridan!"
The operating room doors burst open and a doctor hurried out, interrupting his movement.
Kaiden's hand froze mid-air, his entire body rigid with inexplicable dread. After a moment, he slowly lowered his phone and turned toward the doctor, his voice hoarse.
"How is she?"
But even as he asked about Karina, his eyes kept darting back to the window, searching for a plane that was already gone.
"Miss Wingston is out of danger, but she needs rest."
The doctor wiped sweat from his forehead.
"Thank God for that blood transfusion. Without it, we could have lost her."
Blood transfusion. Someone donated blood.
Kaiden nodded mechanically. He should have felt relief, should have gone straight to see Karina, but his gaze drifted back to the window.
The plane had vanished completely.
Why does that feel like the end of the world?
His heart felt hollow, like that aircraft had carried away something irreplaceable, leaving an emptiness that nothing could fill.
The sensation was so acute it was physical—like someone had reached into his chest and stolen his lungs.
What the hell did I just lose?