The days drifted by quietly, and before anyone realized, a full week had passed. Christopher had made a complete recovery and was back to full strength. Nathan still remained at the mansion, keeping close and helping in any way he could. Olivia hadn’t received another message from the unknown number, and for once, there was peace in the mansion. Real, comforting peace. Racheal and Sophia went about their days separately. The house was calm, calmer than it had been in a long time. But that peaceful rhythm was broken the following morning. Racheal woke up drenched in sweat, her body burning up. Her head throbbed, her limbs ached, and her skin felt too hot to touch. Still, she pushed herself to sit up. The effort alone made her dizzy. After a few seconds, she forced herself to stand and stumbled into the bathroom. Her stomach lurched again. She dropped to her knees in front of the toilet and threw up. The bitter taste lingered as she rinsed her mouth out at the sink, her body tre
The car rolled to a stop in front of Saint Jude’s Hospital, and Olivia wasted no time stepping out. Nathan followed, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. She had been terrified earlier, racing out of the police station after the threatening message, fearing she would find Nathan hurt or worse. But he was fine. Sitting in his car, safe. She hadn’t realized how much she cared until relief nearly knocked the breath from her lungs. Now, walking side by side toward Christopher’s room, Olivia’s nerves still hadn’t fully settled. The weight of it all clung to her shoulders like a storm cloud. “I’m worried,” she whispered, not even sure if she meant to say it aloud. Nathan glanced sideways at her. “About the message?” Olivia nodded. “Whoever it is... they know where we are. What we’re doing. And they’re watching.” She paused, then added more quietly, “Why me? Why do they want to hurt the people around me?” Nathan’s jaw clenched. His voice came low, sharp with resol
She heard it again. Another thud. Louder. Olivia’s heart shot to her throat. Panic clawed up her chest as her mind scrambled for what to do. With trembling fingers, she grabbed her phone and typed to Nathan quickly— 'Help. Someone’s at the door. Come quickly.' Then she looked up. The door wasn’t locked. Panic surged through her. If whoever was out there tried the handle, they would come right in. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Olivia tiptoed toward the door, holding her breath like even that might make a sound. She gently turned the lock until she heard a soft click. Secure. For now. She backed away and sat on the edge of the bed, gripping her phone tightly. Her eyes kept darting from the door to the phone screen, praying Nathan would show up soon. Another thud. Then a pause. Her body tensed, every nerve on edge. Then, voices. Faint at first. Two of them. One sounded familiar. Her breath hitched. Nathan. Relief flooded her as she hurried to the doo
Earlier, when Christopher mentioned his brakes had failed, Olivia hadn’t thought much of it. Accidents happened. Roads were unpredictable. But now, hearing Nathan say it like this, with that grave certainty in his voice, made something in her chest tighten. “How do you know?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I mean… yeah, he said it, but...” Nathan let out a slow breath, his eyes calm. “I asked for an investigation,” he said. “Mechanical analysis, security footage... everything.” “And?” “No signs of tampering caught on camera. No one suspicious near the car.” He paused. “But the brakes were already damaged before he left. Deliberately. This wasn’t just an accident, Olivia. It was planned.” She blinked. “Planned…?” “Staged,” he said firmly. “Someone wanted that car to crash. Someone wanted Christopher dead.” A cold weight settled in her stomach. “But why? Who would—?” Nathan’s jaw tightened. “Whoever it is, they got close enough to touch his car. That means
PRESENT DAY Just like that, their conversation was cut short by the doctor’s words. Nathan was the first to stand, sharp, swift... like he’d been bracing for that statement all along. Olivia followed, her movements slower, more tentative. They trailed behind the doctor through the stark hospital corridor, fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. As they walked, Olivia stole a glance at Nathan. His posture was rigid, shoulders squared, eyes locked ahead like he couldn’t afford to look back. Not even for a second. A strange ache bloomed in her chest. How much had he endured? He had raised a teenager when he had barely stopped being one himself. Not out of obligation, but love. She could see it now, in the quiet storm that always seemed to simmer behind his eyes. The girl, his sister, had been bullied relentlessly. And according to Nathan, she had a childlike innocence, a softness the world wasn’t kind to. Olivia could only imagine how deeply it must’ve cut her. To be l
ABOUT FIFTEEN YEARS AGO A young brunette girl sat cross-legged in front of a vanity mirror, her small hand gripping a tube of red lipstick. She frowned in concentration as she applied it across her lips, but her strokes were clumsy. The color smeared well past the edges of her mouth, staining the skin above and below in crooked lines. “Ugh!” she grunted in frustration, glaring at her reflection. Her small hand trembled. Then, suddenly, she stood and slammed her fist into the mirror. A loud crack echoed as shards spiderwebbed through the glass. She gasped, staring at her knuckles which were pink from the force, but not bleeding. Her wide eyes filled with panic. She darted to the corner of the room, crouching and wrapping her arms tightly around her knees like a frightened child, rocking slightly. The door creaked open. She froze. But when her eyes landed on the boy at the doorway... tall, lean, barely eighteen, they lit up with instant joy. “Nathan!” she squealed, jump