3

The pain came like lightning shooting through every cell.

Mia didn't even have time to scream. The sound died in her throat as her body arched violently, her knees buckled, and she fell to the cold bathroom floor. The spasms began without warning, brutal contractions shaking her muscles like invisible whips. It was as if her skin was burning from the inside. As if something was trying to escape—and she was the prison.

Gasping, eyes wide, Mia barely recognized her own body. The heat came from within, growing in waves, destroying all logic. It was pain... but it was more. Something primitive, indescribable.

An ancient, savage force that she had fought to keep locked away since her first attacks.

In the next room, Liam heard the thud. The chair scraping, quick footsteps, banging on the door.

“Mia? Mia, talk to me. What's going on?”

She couldn't answer.

The world was just fire. Air and pain.

Tears streamed down her face as she bit her lip hard, trying to hold back the scream that threatened to tear her apart. Her breathing was erratic, her chest rising and falling as if fighting for oxygen. And then, in the midst of the chaos, something changed.

It wasn't just pain. It was... awakening.

The door flew open.

Liam rushed in and stopped in the middle of the bathroom, frozen.

“Mia... my God.”

She was on the floor, her body twisted in violent spasms, her skin pale as snow, covered in sweat.

Her eyes were half-closed, trembling as if she were about to faint. He knelt beside her, his voice desperate:

“You're having a seizure! I need to get you to the hospital!”

He tried to touch her—and jumped back.

“You're burning up... My God, you're on fire!”

Mia forced her eyes open.

It was an insane effort. The pain throbbed as if something were tearing her insides apart. But going to the hospital... would be the end. Her mother would freak out. They would have to run away again. Start from scratch. Again.

“No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “It's not what you think. This... it's happened before. It'll pass.”

“Are you kidding?” Liam was white. “This isn't normal! You need help.”

“Please, no... just take me to bed. That's all.”

He hesitated, his eyes filled with fear and doubt. But he obeyed.

He put an arm around her waist and lifted her carefully, as if she were glass about to shatter.

Mia almost fell again. Her legs were shaking, her muscles stiff. He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently, adjusting the pillow behind her head.

Liam knelt beside her, his fingers restless, his eyes scanning Mia's body as if looking for something he could do. But there was nothing. Except watch.

Mia was shaking. The spasms wouldn't stop. Her body arched against the mattress, bending at impossible angles. Each contraction was torture. She gritted her teeth, trying not to scream. She felt like she was burning inside—the heat growing, growing, until it seemed unbearable.

Part of her screamed to give in. To let the thing inside her out.

But Mia fought.

She fought because she knew that if she let go, there would be no turning back.

“I'm getting better, I feel better,” Mia said, trying to convince herself.

Mia was wrong.

She wasn't getting better.

The pain only increased. It burned inside her like live embers, climbing every nerve with growing fury. Her body shook uncontrollably. The mattress was no longer a comfort, but a prison.

Liam paced back and forth, his blond hair tousled from running his hands through it. Panic was written on his face.

“Mia, this isn't normal! We need to go to the hospital!”

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back another moan. Her face was drenched in sweat. Every cell in her body ached. Every muscle felt like it was about to tear.

“I can't,” she whispered. “My mom... she'll freak out. She'll ruin everything.”

“But you're in bad shape! My dad's a doctor, Mia. He can help. He can—”

“No!” she cut him off, her voice broken and desperate. “Please... call her. Now. She's the only one who knows what to do.”

Liam froze.

“Are you sure? I—”

“Please!” This time, it was a scream. Torn. Almost a plea.

He didn't argue anymore. He picked up the cell phone that was lying next to the bed. The screen still displayed several missed calls with the name “Mom.” The icon was flashing red. He clicked “call back,” his heart pounding in his chest.

He called once.

Twice.

Three times.

He glanced anxiously at Mia. She was hunched over, her body curled up, her eyes squeezed shut in pain. The sound of the phone echoing in the room felt like a bad omen.

And then... the call was answered.

Across town, Elisa staggered out of the hospital. Her eyes were still teary, her face pale—as if the news of her parents' death had drained the blood from her body.

When her cell phone vibrated in her hand, she stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, her heart racing. She saw Mia's name on the screen.

And she screamed.

A dry, torn sound, a relief that bordered on despair.

“Mia?! Mia, for God's sake, where are you?!”

But it wasn't her daughter who answered.

“Hi... ma'am... this is Liam. I'm Mia's friend.”

Elisa stopped walking. The world around her seemed suspended.

“Where is my daughter?” she shouted, her voice between fury and panic.

“She's at my house,” Liam replied, as calmly as he could. “But she's... she's in bad shape. Really bad. And she doesn't want to go to the hospital.”

Elisa froze. Her chest tightened almost unbearably.

“Not the hospital!” she said firmly. “Give me your address. Now.”

Liam obeyed without arguing. Elisa hung up before even saying thank you.

She looked around. A taxi had just pulled up in front of the hospital. A woman was walking toward it, distracted.

Without thinking, Elisa ran to the car, pushed the door open, and practically pulled it out of the way.

“Are you crazy?!” protested the woman, startled.

“I'm sorry. It's a matter of life and death!” Elisa fired back, already throwing herself into the back seat.

The driver turned around, startled. Elisa gave him the address in a trembling but firm voice.

When the car took off at high speed, she clung to the upholstery as if it were about to collapse at any second.

Because maybe it was.