MasukELLE FIVE YEARS LATER The hospital felt so cold I thought I was at the North Pole. I stood just outside the consultation room, the test results trembling slightly in my hand. Pregnant. Again. My breath caught as the words echoed in my mind. For a moment, joy flickered through me. A baby. A new life. Another little heartbeat growing inside me. But the joy was swallowed quickly by something else. A familiar dread crept up my spine and wrapped tight around my chest. I thought I had healed. I thought time had stitched every broken piece. But holding that paper made something inside me tremble. What if something happened again? What if danger found its way back into our lives? By the time I reached the parking lot, my hands were cold. What if I could not protect this baby? What if my past repeats itself? What if peace was never meant for someone like me? Even though Evans was gone. Melody was gone. The threats were gone. I still wasn't at peace. I guess fear had a way of
ELLE A year passed before I even realized it. A year since the trial. A year since the screaming, the sentencing, the nightmares. A year since the deaths of Evans and Melody. A year since I held Raymond’s hand in that cold courtroom and told myself we would survive. And somehow… we did. Today was proof of that survival, because it was my daughter’s first birthday. Raymond and I decided to make it special, celebrating it in the best way possible. Balloons floated along the ceiling like little planets in the sky. It was a mix of different shades of pink, gold, and soft lavender. The living room looked like we were celebrating a princess from a Royal family. We might not be royals, but Mira—my baby, my little miracle—was definitely a princess. We had made sure to invite all our loved ones. We wanted to share the moment with them. Someone turned on music and the speakers hummed with joyful melodies. The smell of grilled food mingled with vanilla frosting and the sugary scent o
ELLE The day Raymond opened his eyes felt unreal, almost dreamlike. I refused to leave him. I sat beside him, brushing my fingers over his hand every few minutes just to reassure myself that the life in him was real and not another cruel trick of hope. So when the door opened and two officers stepped in, their footsteps sharp and their expressions solemn, the fragile peace inside the room trembled. A male officer and a female officer stood in the doorway, both wearing that heavy, unreadable look that usually came before news no one wanted to hear. The female officer cleared her throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Orlando?” My heart tightened again. Fear was a habit my body could not unlearn overnight. “Yes,” I said quietly for both of us. I moved closer to Raymond, as if proximity alone could shield us from whatever came next. The officer nodded. “We came with an update regarding the suspects. Luckily, Melody Nelson and Evans Decker were both apprehended yesterday. They sustained a few inj
ELLE The officer burst out of the water, dragging Raymond with him. Raymond’s body was limp, soaked, and lifeless. Water streamed from his clothes, his hair, and his mouth. His skin was pale—too pale. His lips were tinged blue. They hauled him onto the ground. “BEGIN CPR!” an officer ordered immediately. “GO!” They started compressions on him—hard, fast, and forceful. There was nothing. "Again!" The offer yelled. Still, there was nothing. “Where’s the ambulance?!” “Two minutes out!” “Shit! Well, don't stop! Keep going!” They kept pushing. Breath. Compression. Breath. Compression. But Raymond didn’t move. His chest stayed still. His pulse didn’t return. One officer paused just long enough to exchange a grim, devastating look with another. “We’re losing him. Load him up, now!” They lifted him onto a stretcher. I screamed his name until my throat collapsed. The baby was rushed toward another ambulance. Officers swarmed around me, cutting the ropes from my wrists. B
ELLE The officer burst out of the water, dragging Raymond with him. Raymond’s body was limp, soaked, and lifeless. Water streamed from his clothes, his hair, and his mouth. His skin was pale—too pale. His lips were tinged blue. They hauled him onto the ground. “BEGIN CPR!” an officer ordered immediately. “GO!” They started compressions on him—hard, fast, and forceful. There was nothing. "Again!" The offer yelled. Still, there was nothing. “Where’s the ambulance?!” “Two minutes out!” “Shit! Well, don't stop! Keep going!” They kept pushing. Breath. Compression. Breath. Compression. But Raymond didn’t move. His chest stayed still. His pulse didn’t return. One officer paused just long enough to exchange a grim, devastating look with another. “We’re losing him. Load him up, now!” They lifted him onto a stretcher. I screamed his name until my throat collapsed. The baby was rushed toward another ambulance. Officers swarmed around me, cutting the ropes from my wrists. B
ELLE The officer burst out of the water, dragging Raymond with him. Raymond’s body was limp, soaked, and lifeless. Water streamed from his clothes, his hair, and his mouth. His skin was pale—too pale. His lips were tinged blue. They hauled him onto the ground. “BEGIN CPR!” an officer ordered immediately. “GO!” They started compressions on him—hard, fast, and forceful. There was nothing. "Again!" The offer yelled. Still, there was nothing. “Where’s the ambulance?!” “Two minutes out!” “Shit! Well, don't stop! Keep going!” They kept pushing. Breath. Compression. Breath. Compression. But Raymond didn’t move. His chest stayed still. His pulse didn’t return. One officer paused just long enough to exchange a grim, devastating look with another. “We’re losing him. Load him up, now!” They lifted him onto a stretcher. I screamed his name until my throat collapsed. The baby was rushed toward another ambulance. Officers swarmed around me, cutting the ropes from my wrists. B







