Summary of Chapter 8 – A pivotal chapter in Her Missing Heart by Jimena James
The chapter Chapter 8 is one of the most intense moments in Her Missing Heart, written by Jimena James. With signature elements of the Internet genre, this part of the story reveals deep conflicts, shocking revelations, and decisive character changes. A must-read for anyone following the narrative.
My eyes flickered as I unconsciously gripped the blanket, avoiding Ethan's gaze.
"You knew!" Ethan's voice rose sharply, incredulous. "Why didn't you tell me?"
I looked out the window, saying only: "It's my business."
Ethan choked on my words, shooting me an angry look before storming out to arrange my transfer to another hospital.
When forced into the psychiatrist's office, I immediately recognized the woman in the white coat—Dr. Rebecca Carter.
The same person who'd performed the hypnosis six months ago at Ethan's request.
My fingers whitened with tension, my guard up.
Dr. Rebecca Carter led me to a couch: "Ms. Riley, please relax. You can sit down."
I stared at the comfortable chair but remained standing, refusing to cooperate.
She paused, then continued standing while inquiring me:
"Have you been feeling tired lately?"
"Do you feel lonely, avoiding conversations?"
"Have you... had thoughts of self-harm?"
I maintained my silence regardless of her questions.
After thirty minutes, she gave up.
Through the glass door, I saw her speaking with Ethan. Soon, he burst in: "Autumn, you're sick. You need treatment!"
"I don't." My refusal was firmer than his insistence.
Ethan's lips pressed into a tight line.
Endless silence made the atmosphere heavy and suffocating.
Then my phone rang.
I answered to hear my old art teacher's warm voice: "Autumn, the studio's moving. Your portrait of Gabriel is still here—when can you pick it up?"
My breath caught—Ethan had burned all my drawings of Gabriel, but one still survived at the studio!
"I'm coming now." Without a glance at Ethan, I took a taxi to the studio.
The teacher handed me the rolled canvas: "Heard you stopped painting. You used to be my most dedicated student."
Before... I had no natural talent. Gabriel's encouragement kept me going.
Now he's gone, along with my motivation to paint.
Silently, I unrolled the canvas to see Gabriel's loving gaze from my memories.
I carefully re-rolled it, holding it like a recovered treasure.
"Thank you, teacher."



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