Chapter 9: Echoes

I don’t remember the drive home.

One moment I’m leaving the Morvant building.

The next I’m standing inside my penthouse kitchen, staring at the marble counter like it personally offended me.

Something is wrong.

Very wrong.

I grip the edge of the counter and force myself to breathe slowly.

The meeting happened exactly the way I remembered it.

Every word.

Every gesture.

Even the cigar.

My stomach twists.

That wasn’t routine.

That wasn’t coincidence.

That was memory.

But how can you remember something that hasn’t happened yet?

Soft giggles and playful teasing pull me back to the present.

Right. Vance and Anya are home.

Despite how often they bicker, hearing them laugh together is oddly comforting. Their teasing isn’t new, and for a moment it almost grounds me.

I head toward the guest room and announce my arrival.

“Hey, I’m back!”

The laughter stops immediately.

Then I hear hurried movement inside the room.

My hand pauses before turning the doorknob.

Please, not another anniversary surprise.

I silently plead with whatever gods might be listening before pushing the door open.

Anya’s face is flushed red. Vance is sitting stiffly at the end of the bed.

I rush over to her, pressing the back of my hand to her forehead.

She’s burning up.

“Vance, quick—bring me a cool wet cloth,” I say urgently.

He leaves without argument.

As he should.

Honestly, how could he let her get this overheated without stepping in?

I focus on Anya, who remains oddly quiet.

“Anya, you need to take care of yourself,” I say gently. “You’re in your third trimester. God forbid something happens to you under my roof.”

She sighs dramatically.

“You’re right,” she says. “Next time I visit, I’ll expect to be treated like royalty. You’ll find me lounging on your velour chaise while Vance feeds me grapes and the cleaner fans me.”

A small laugh escapes me.

“Oh please, it’s too early for jokes like that,” I say lightly. “Especially after Queen Elizabeth passed.”

Anya blinks at me.

“Charlotte… the Queen is very much alive.”

I freeze.

What?

I could have sworn she’d passed away. I remember seeing the news. Remember feeling strangely emotional about it… like the end of an era.

I frown, shaking it off.

“Huh. Maybe I’m mixing it up with Prince Philip.”

Just then Vance returns with the cloth.

I place it on Anya’s forehead and she relaxes instantly.

“This should help,” I tell her. “Why don’t you stay the night? At least here Vance and I can keep an eye on you.”

She considers it.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Vance adds quickly. “It’s my fault for letting her help paint the study in the first place.”

I try not to smile too obviously.

Truthfully, I just want her here so I have someone to talk to about the absolute circus that today has been.

“Fine,” she murmurs. “I’ll stay.”

Both Vance and I sigh with relief.

Suddenly, exhaustion crashes over me.

“I’m going to lie down for a bit,” I say. “It’s been… an eventful day.”

Anya studies me.

“Are you okay?” she asks carefully. “I didn’t want to pry, but if my calculations are right… your meeting only lasted ten minutes instead of the hour you scheduled.”

I raise a brow.

“Oh? You’re keeping tabs on me now?”

She freezes.

I laugh softly.

“I’m joking. You’re my executive assistant for a reason.”

Her shoulders relax.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” I add. “Once we’re both rested.”

She nods.

“I’ll be right here.”

I head toward my bedroom, suddenly eager for silence.

The moment my head hits the pillow, the quiet becomes unbearable.

A thought creeps in.

Then another.

And suddenly my mind is screaming.

Don’t trust them.

Don’t trust the study.

Do not trust the tea.

Do not trust the vitamins.

Trust no one.

My eyes snap open.

My heart pounds violently in my chest.

“Stop,” I whisper, pressing my hands against my ears.

But the thoughts won’t stop.

They feel older than me.

Like echoes of something I’ve already lived.

My breathing becomes shallow.

Now that I think about it… my body has been reacting strangely all day.

Even around Vance.

That realization sends a cold wave through me.

The bedroom door creaks open.

I whip my head up.

Vance.

Just Vance.

Relief and dread war inside my chest.

He approaches slowly, holding a cup of tea and a small plate with two vitamin tablets and a shot glass of water.

“You should have some tea,” he says gently. “And take these vitamins. You don’t look well.”

I reach to thank him—

—but my hand suddenly jerks.

The teacup flies from his grasp and shatters against the floor.

We both freeze.

“I’m so sorry!” I blurt out immediately. “I didn’t mean to— I’ve just had a strange day.”

For a moment his expression doesn’t change.

Then I see it.

The slightest tick in his jaw.

My instincts scream at me to run.

Instead, I smile nervously.

“It’s alright,” he says calmly. “Just take the vitamins.”

I nod.

I place the tablets in my mouth and swallow the water.

But my throat refuses to cooperate.

The water goes down.

The pills don’t.

Without him noticing, I shift them between my cheek and molars.

“Thank you, darling,” I say softly.

He nods once and leaves.

The moment the door closes, I spit the tablets into a tissue and slip them into my purse.

Only then do I allow myself to lie back down.

Sleep claims me instantly.

I’m hunched over a toilet.

Gagging.

Something burns in my throat.

Blood splatters the porcelain.

Darkness.

I’m running.

Anya is beside me.

We’re rushing toward her car.

Darkness.

The hospital parking lot.

Bright lights.

Chaos.

Darkness.

I’m in a hospital bed.

I can’t move.

I can’t speak.

My throat feels like sandpaper.

I’m so thirsty.

Somewhere nearby—

Beep…

Beep…

Beep…

My vision blurs.

White lights flood my eyes.

Someone is holding my hand.

Vance.

He’s crying.

“My love,” he whispers softly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

The machine beside me suddenly screams.

BEEEEEEEEEP—

I bolt upright in bed, gasping for air.

My heart slams violently against my ribs.

The room is dark.

Silent.

But I swear I can still hear it.

Beep.