Dead

Chapter 3

Aria

My eyes snapped open.

White. Everything was blindingly white. The ceiling, the walls, the sheets tucked tightly around my chest. The smell of bleach and rubbing alcohol assaulted my nose, burning the back of my throat.

My hand drifted instinctively to my stomach. I expected the tight, hard curve of my pregnancy. I expected the flutter of movement but nothing. Then I remembered, I had already given birth.

"My baby?"

The words scratched out of my throat, rough like sandpaper.

Panic, cold and sharp, pierced through my drug-induced haze. I tried to sit up, but my limbs felt like they were filled water. I scrambled, kicking off the sheets, my hands frantically searching the bed.

"Where is he?" I gasped, my heart rate monitor picking up speed, *beep-beep-beep-beep*. "Where is my son?"

The heavy steel door hissed open.

A man in a white coat walked in. He didn't look like a pack doctor. He didn't have the warmth, the scruffy kindness. He looked...detached.

He didn't speak to me and just checked the monitor.

"I asked you a question!" I screamed, the sound tearing at my raw vocal cords. I tried to lunge at him, but my wrist jerked back with a clink.

I looked down. A leather cuff bound my right wrist to the bedrail.

"Calm down, Miss Vale," the doctor said. His voice was smooth, lacking any empathy. "You have been through a severe physical trauma. Your vitals are unstable."

"Where is my baby?" I sobbed, pulling at the cuff until the leather bit into my skin. "I had a baby. In the snow. A boy. Where is he?"

The doctor stopped writing. He looked at me over the rim of his glasses. His eyes were devoid of pity.

"You suffered from severe hypothermia, Aria. Your body temperature dropped to eighty-nine degrees. When the rangers found you, you were barely breathing."

"The rangers?" I shook my head, the memory bright in my mind. "No. There were no rangers. It was a black helicopter. With a shield on the side. Men in... black. Yes. Black. They took him!"

The doctor sighed. "Hypothermia causes vivid hallucinations. The brain creates scenarios to cope with the pain."

He stepped closer, his voice lowering to a gentle tone.

"There was no helicopter, Aria. You were alone."

"I held him!" I shrieked. "I wiped the blood off his face! He had violet eyes! He looked at me!"

"There was no baby to hold, Aria."

The world stopped. The beeping of the monitor seemed to stretch into a long, flat line in my ears.

"What?"

"You miscarried," he said bluntly. "The stress. The cold. The fall. The fetus was expelled, but it was far too small to survive. It was...effectively a stillbirth due to exposure."

"No," I whimpered, shaking my head violently. "No, no, no. That’s a lie. He was alive. He was looking at me."

"He was dead before he hit the snow, Miss Vale."

"LIAR!"

The scream ripped through me, primal and agonizing. I didn't think and just reacted, grabbing the IV stand next to the bed with my free hand and swinging it.

It crashed into the doctor’s shoulder and he stumbled back, his glasses falling off.

"Give him to me!" I roared, thrashing against the restraint like a wild animal. I didn't care that I was bleeding. I didn't care that I was weak. "You stole him! I know you stole him!"

"Restrain her," the doctor commanded, rubbing his shoulder.

Two orderlies, men the size of Alpha enforcers, burst into the room.

One pinned my legs. The other grabbed my free arm, twisting it behind my back until I cried out.

"Let me go!" I bit the orderly’s arm, tasting blood. "He’s alive! My son is alive!"

"Sedate her. Maximum dose," the doctor ordered, picking his glasses up from the floor. "She’s hysterical."

"Please!" I begged, my rage collapsing into desperate, broken sobbing. I looked at the doctor, tears streaming down my face. "Please, just tell me he’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Just let me hold him once. Please..."

The doctor didn't even look at me. He nodded to the nurse.

I felt the prick of the needle in my shoulder.

"No..." I gasped, fighting the wave of heavy, black oil that flooded my veins. "Don't... make me forget..."

My struggles grew weaker. The orderly released my arm. I slumped back onto the pillows, my eyes unfocused, fixed on the blinding white ceiling.

"My... baby..."

The darkness swallowed me whole again.

***

Unknown Hours Later

When I woke up the second time, I didn't scream.

I didn't have the energy to scream. I felt hollowed out. Scraped empty. It was as if the sedation had burned away not just my rage, but my soul.

The room was dim now. The cuffs were gone.

I lay there for a long time, staring at the dust motes dancing in the sliver of light from under the door. I traced the empty space of my womb with my mind.

Gone.

Whether they stole him or whether he died... he was gone.

The door opened. It wasn't the doctor this time. It was a nurse who refused to make eye contact with me.

She walked to the bedside table and placed two items on the metal surface.

Then she left.

I forced myself to sit up. My body felt like dried leaves.

I looked at the table.

The first item was a document.

CERTIFICATE OF DEATH.

Name: Infant Male Vale

Date of Birth: December 21st

Time of Death: 11:42 PM

Cause: Extreme Hypothermia / Cardiac Arrest.

I traced the letters with a trembling finger. Cardiac Arrest. His heart stopped. Did it stop because of the cold? Or did it stop because I wasn't strong enough to keep him warm?

"I'm sorry," I whispered to the paper. A single tear fell, landing on the word 'Death'. "I'm so sorry I was weak."

I looked at the second item.

It was a check.

I picked it up.

Pay to the Order of: Aria Vale.

Amount: Five Hundred Thousand Dollars.

Memo: Relocation Assistance.

I stared at the zeros.

This was the price of my son. Five hundred thousand dollars.

It was a payoff. If my baby had truly died of natural causes, why give me half a million dollars? Why hide me in a private clinic instead of a pack hospital?

Something was wrong.

They were paying me to disappear. To take my grief and bury it where no one could find it.

A laugh bubbled up in my throat. It sounded jagged and broken.

There was hope. My baby might still be alive.

I swung my legs out of bed. My feet hit the cold tile floor and I walked into the small ensuite bathroom.

I gripped the porcelain sink, looking up at the mirror.

The girl staring back at me was a stranger. Her skin was grey. Her eyes, usually a warm hazel, were bloodshot and dull. Her hair was matted with sweat. She looked like the "Runt" everyone said she was.

"He lied," I whispered to the reflection. "I know what I saw."

My hand curled into a fist.

The grief was still there, a gaping wound in my chest. But something else was rising beneath it. Something colder than the snow.

Hate.

Pure, distilled hatred. For Lucas. For Chloe. For the doctor. For the helicopter. Everyone.

I pulled back my fist and smashed it into the mirror.

CRASH.

Shards of glass exploded into the sink. Pain bloomed across my knuckles, but I didn't flinch. I watched the blood drip from my hand, mixing with the shattered glass.

I looked at the broken reflection. My face was fractured, split into a dozen pieces.

"I'll find him." I said, my voice steady, devoid of tears. "I'll definitely find him."

I picked up a shard of glass, gripping it until it cut my palm.

"I will take your money. I will take your check. I will disappear."

I looked at my bloody hand.

"And when I come back... I'll kill them. Every last one of them must pay."