Fear

The house was quiet.

Upstairs, behind a closed bedroom door, Rhea slept deeply under the strong medication the doctors had prescribed. Her fractured wrist rested in a fresh cast, and a small white bandage stood out against her forehead. Every now and then, Melissa paused at the bottom of the staircase, her eyes fixed on the hallway leading to her daughter’s room. She had already checked on Rhea three times in less than twenty minutes. Each visit ended the same way: quietly brushing a stray strand of hair from her daughter’s face, watching the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, then slipping back downstairs with a heavy heart.

Only when she was finally convinced that Rhea was resting peacefully did Melissa return to the living room.

Alaric stood near the fireplace, his jacket draped over one arm. A fresh bandage wrapped around the back of his hand, though dried streaks of blood still marked the cuff of his white shirt. His posture was composed as always, but there was a visible weariness in the set of his shoulders and the faint shadows beneath his eyes.

Melissa lowered herself onto the sofa and let out a long, exhausted breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Alaric turned to look at her. She managed a faint, apologetic smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I know I put everyone through hell at the hospital,” she said softly, guilt thick in her voice. “I barely let the doctor finish speaking before I demanded they discharge her. I must have seemed completely irrational.”

“You were frightened,” Alaric replied simply, his tone gentle.

“I was.” Her voice cracked on the admission. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, staring down at them as if the answers she desperately needed might be written across her skin. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way. At least… not without explaining myself.”

Alaric didn’t interrupt. He simply waited, giving her the space she needed. The silence between them felt heavy but not uncomfortable, like two people carrying burdens they weren’t quite ready to share.

Melissa drew in a slow, shaky breath.

“I used to work there. As a doctor. Years ago.” Her eyes remained fixed on the floor. “I haven’t stepped inside that hospital since the day I left.” She swallowed hard. “When I heard Rhea had been taken there tonight… I wasn’t thinking straight. I was terrified.” She let out a bitter laugh that held no humor. “I didn’t even realize it was the same hospital.”

Her voice grew quieter.

“Then I looked around. The emergency entrance… the nurses’ station… the old surgical wing… the logo on the wall…” She closed her eyes briefly. “And it all came rushing back.”

Her gaze drifted toward the staircase again.

“I buried that part of my life years ago. I wanted Rhea to grow up untouched by it.” She blinked away fresh tears. “I’ve spent twenty-three years making sure she never had to carry my past.”

“You believe the hospital is lying about the driver?” Alaric asked carefully.

Melissa hesitated. Then she slowly shook her head.

“I don’t know.” Her answer was painfully honest. “But I learned a long time ago that not everything inside those walls is what it seems.” Her fingers tightened together. “You told me you saw the paramedics take him away.”

“I did.”

“And yet…” She looked up at him, fear lingering in her eyes. “They tell us he was never admitted.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

The room fell into another heavy silence. Alaric remained quiet. He could see the fear etched across Melissa’s face, but he sensed she wasn’t ready to tell him everything. Whatever had happened in that hospital years ago had left wounds that time hadn’t healed. For now, he chose not to press her. Not while Rhea lay sleeping upstairs.

“I appreciate you bringing her home,” Melissa said after a long pause, her voice thick with gratitude. “And… thank you. For everything you did tonight.”

Alaric gave a small nod.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Melissa offered him a tired smile.

“I should have told you sooner that I once worked there.”

Before Alaric could respond, his phone vibrated against the coffee table. The screen lit up with Matt’s name. He glanced briefly at Melissa before picking it up.

“Excuse me.”

He stepped onto the terrace, closing the glass doors quietly behind him before answering.

“What is it?”

Matt didn’t waste time.

“He woke up.”

Alaric’s expression hardened. The cool night breeze swept across the terrace as he stared into the darkness beyond the gardens. He knew exactly who Matt was talking about. For several long seconds, he said nothing. His eyes drifted toward the second-floor bedroom window where Rhea slept peacefully, unaware of everything unfolding around her. His jaw tightened.

“Keep him alive.”

A brief silence followed. Then Alaric spoke again, his voice low and unwavering.

“I’m coming.”