Chapter 3The Hustle Queen

I slept until the sun was high in the sky. When I woke up, I felt fantastic.

“Did it work?”

I shot up in bed, feeling an unprecedented lightness in my body. For a moment, I was so overcome with relief that I started to cry. Valerie’s dark magic couldn't touch me anymore!

But just as I finished getting dressed and opened my door, ready to go out and celebrate with a good meal, a sudden, crushing pain seized my chest. My vision went black, and I collapsed.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital.

“You’re awake. Your neighbor found you just in time,” a nurse said, frowning at me. “You had symptoms of a heart attack. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you won’t last another six months.”

I ignored her, grabbing my phone and opening the company group chat.

The Boss: “Valerie worked for 24 hours straight to get the proposal done before the client left. That’s what true dedication looks like!”

Below his message was a long chain of praise and congratulations from my former colleagues.

I stared at the screen, a bone-deep chill spreading through me.

I had already quit. Valerie and I weren’t colleagues anymore. Why was I still being affected?

A profound sense of hopelessness washed over me.

Was there no escape?

“Young people these days have no regard for their own lives!” the doctor grumbled as he reviewed my chart. “We had another young professional die of exhaustion last month. Just like you, she swore up and down she wasn't staying up late.”

My head snapped up. “She said she wasn’t?”

“That’s right. Claimed her colleague was working 24/7 and transferring the fatigue to her,” the doctor scoffed. “Ever heard such a strange thing? Probably just pulling all-nighters playing video games and too embarrassed to admit it.”

I grabbed his sleeve. “What was her name?”

Her name was Laura.

I found her address from her old company’s records and went to her home. Her mother answered the door.

“Ma’am, I was a friend of Laura’s. I wanted to ask… how did she pass away?”

The woman’s eyes instantly filled with tears. She ushered me inside. The first thing I saw was a photo of Laura on the mantelpiece. Her face was pale, the shadows under her eyes dark and bruised—she looked exactly like I did now.

“My poor daughter. We never knew why she died,” her mother sobbed. “I was with her every night, we went to bed on time, but every morning she was more and more exhausted. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong.”

My heart began to pound. “Did she ever mention a colleague named Valerie?”

Laura’s mother shook her head, confused. “I don’t know. She just said someone at her company could work around the clock without sleeping. How is that possible…? This was the last photo taken of her. Here, look.”

The moment I saw the picture, the hair on my arms stood on end.

In the photo, Laura looked terribly ill, clearly forcing a smile.

And in front of her, standing beside their boss with a champagne flute in her hand and a radiant smile on her face, was a familiar figure.

It was Valerie.

In that instant, my back went ramrod straight.

I understood.

I finally knew how Valerie was transferring her fatigue to me and to Laura.

The truth was hidden right there.

After I was discharged, I reapplied for my old job as if nothing had happened.

When Diane saw my condition, she was horrified. “Hannah, are you sure you’re well enough to work? I can just mark you down for an extended leave.”

I shook my head, my voice weak but firm. “No. I need to come back.”

Diane looked like she wanted to argue but eventually relented. In the few days I’d been gone, the company had been turned upside down.