The massive steel door of Freezer Vault 7 shuddered under another ferocious blow from the outside.

Back at County General Hospital, the morning sun poured through the blinds, casting warm golden bars across Clara’s bed.

Victoria sat in the armchair peeling an orange with surgical precision, her eyes fixed on the small television mounted in the corner of the room, which was currently broadcasting a local news flash reporting the dramatic roadside arrest of a prominent local financial consultant wanted for fraud and attempted murder.

"Well," Victoria said quietly, tossing an orange segment into her mouth. "It appears justice is moderately efficient when armed with a high-powered corporate legal team."

Clara looked over from her bed, watching her former rival with a complex tangle of emotions. For two years, they had waged corporate trench warfare against each other, trading insults in boardrooms, sabotaging project proposals, and treating one another as mortal enemies.

And yet, when Clara had been locked inside a freezing tomb listening to her husband sign her death warrant, the only person who had broken down the door was Victoria Vance.

"Why did you do it, Victoria?" Clara asked softly, breaking the silence. "We hated each other. You tried to get me fired six months ago over the logistics contract."

Victoria paused, the orange slice hovering near her fingers. She didn't look away, nor did she offer a glib corporate deflection. She simply set the fruit down on the tray table, folded her hands in her lap, and sighed.

"We were competitors, Clara. Not monsters," Victoria said, her voice losing its usual icy edge. "Do you remember three years ago, before you got married? When you covered for me when my father had his stroke and I missed the quarterly financial presentation? You stayed up all night finishing my numbers so the board wouldn't demote me."

Clara blinked in surprise. "I... I thought you didn't even remember that."

"I remember everything," Victoria said firmly. "I play the game hard, Clara, because in our industry, if you show weakness, they crush you. But what Victor did wasn't a business disagreement. It wasn't corporate politics. It was pure, cowardly evil. And nobody crosses the line into murdering a mother and her unborn children on my watch—especially not some two-bit embezzler in a cheap suit."

Clara felt a warm knot form in her throat. She reached out across the small space between their chairs, extending her hand.

Victoria looked down at Clara’s hand, hesitated for a fraction of a second, and then reached out, gripping Clara’s fingers firmly.