Chapter Five

I couldn’t ignore the growing storm inside me anymore.

 At first, I tried to silence it. I distracted myself with chores, tried to focus on meals and anniversaries and the way Richard smiled when he walked through the door. I told myself I was overthinking, that maybe I was just too sensitive. I blamed my hormones, the medication, even the tonic that upset my stomach. But deep down, something had shifted. I no longer felt seen... just watched. As if I were being studied… or guarded.

 Especially when he kissed my eyes.

 That should’ve been the first real clue, shouldn’t it? No matter how passionate or rushed our nights were, Richard never forgot to cup my face gently, lean in, and kiss my eyes like they were sacred. Like they were the best part of me.

 I used to find it romantic. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

 The message from the hospital 'Miss Stacy has finally woken up' had haunted me for days. It clung to the back of my mind like cobwebs I couldn’t wipe away. I had wanted to ask him outright, but every time I opened my mouth, I saw his warm eyes, his easy smile, and my resolve shattered.

 So I decided to find the truth myself.

 The next morning, I left home before Richard did. I told the maid I had errands. The truth sat like lead in my stomach as I headed to the clinic that had handled my eye transplant years ago. It had been a high profile case at the time my family had paid a fortune to get me the surgery when every specialist said there was no hope.

 My fingers fidgeted in my lap as I waited in the doctor’s office. When he finally came in, he looked older but kind, and I gave him a polite smile, even though my insides were shaking.

 “I know it’s been years,” I began, trying to keep my voice steady, “but I was wondering… about the donor. The eyes I received. I just... I’ve been having dreams and… strange feelings.”

 He gave me a puzzled look, but after a moment’s hesitation, he pulled up a file on his tablet. “I suppose there’s no harm now. The donor’s name was Stacy Rowe. She was declared legally brain-dead after an accident. Her parents authorized the transplant.”

 My breath caught.

 Stacy.

 It wasn’t just a coincidence. It couldn’t be.

 I forced a smile and thanked him, but my hands wouldn’t stop trembling as I left the office. I stood outside in the sun, hoping the warmth would calm me, but it only made my skin feel clammy. I opened my phone and typed in the name of the hospital from Richard’s message.

 The receptionist at the front desk seemed disinterested when I asked about a patient named Stacy Rowe. “Family or friend?” she asked.

 “Friend,” I lied, my throat dry. “I just… wanted to check if she’s doing better.”

 The nurse blinked at her screen, then nodded. “Room 306. Third floor.”

 I thanked her and moved toward the elevators, but halfway there, I stopped. My legs wouldn’t go any farther. My instincts screamed at me to turn around, but my heart, my need to know, pushed me forward.

 Room 306. The hallway felt like it stretched for miles. I passed rooms with open doors, TV sounds, beeping monitors, nurses laughing, someone crying. Then I reached it.

 'Stacy Rowe' the name was printed clearly on the placard beside the door.

 My hands turned clammy. My pulse pounded in my ears. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t even know what I was expecting. Maybe some reassurance that it was a different Stacy. Maybe to walk away feeling foolish and paranoid.

 But then I heard her voice.

 Soft, fragile, broken in the way that only someone truly alone can be.

 “Richard… it’s so dark. I’m scared. I feel like I’m trapped in a box. I… I don’t want to live like this anymore. I want my eyes back. I miss the light.”

 I froze.

 I would recognize his voice anywhere.

 Richard.

 His tone was gentle, loving. Familiar in the worst possible way.

 “I’ve been with your eyes all these years,” he said. “I’ve kept them safe, Stacy. I made sure they were loved. Soon… soon, they’ll be yours again. No one can take them away.”

 The floor swayed beneath me.

 My knees nearly gave out.

 I stumbled back, one hand over my mouth to keep from sobbing. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs refused to cooperate. I turned and ran, shoes echoing in the silent hallway.

 Richard had never loved me. He had married me to keep Stacy’s eyes close, to keep them protected. I had been nothing more than a host, a vessel, a placeholder.

 And all those nights he kissed my eyes during sex… it wasn’t because he adored me.

 It was because he missed her.

 The world tilted violently, and I barely made it to the stairwell. I needed to get out. I needed air. My vision blurred. My heart thundered.

 One step.

 Two.

 The railing slipped from my grasp.

 Then, everything went black.