MegraA few days have passed since the hospital visit, and I find myself nestled on the edge of the couch, watching Nathaniel play with Mia in the living room. It’s a rare sight, a beautiful sight, seeing him so relaxed, so present in the moment. He’s crouched down on the floor, his face just inches from hers, making the silliest faces. Mia giggles so hard she’s nearly tipping over, her red curls bouncing wildly with each peal of laughter. Her tiny face is alight with pure joy, and those freckles across her nose and cheeks—oh, those freckles. I swear they get cuter every day. Her green eyes, a perfect match to mine, sparkle like emeralds in the morning light.Mia lets out a squeal and takes off running, her little feet padding against the hardwood floor. Nathaniel gives chase, his arms outstretched, a grin plastered across his face. He’s playing the part of a clumsy monster, pretending to trip over his own feet as he follows her around the room. I can’t help but laugh watching him. He’
Megra I dial 911, my hands shaking so badly that I nearly drop the phone. It takes a few tries before I manage to hit the right numbers, and I press the phone to my ear, feeling my pulse hammer in my chest. Each second drags like an eternity as I wait for the call to connect. "911, what's your emergency?" The operator's voice is calm, steady—so out of place in this moment of chaos and fear. "My address is 34 Marvel Lane, Stockton," I say, my voice frantic. "There's a woman—she's been stabbed. She's losing so much blood. Please, please hurry!" "Ma'am, I need you to stay calm. Help is on the way. Can you stay on the line with me?" "I…" I glance down at Anna, her face deathly pale, eyes half-closed, and lips stained with her own blood. "I can't," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "Please, just hurry." I end the call and toss the phone aside, scrambling back to Anna's side. I press my hands against her wound, trying to stop the bleeding. The warm, sticky blood seeps through
Nathaniel Walking into the apartment, I feel lighter than I have in weeks. There’s a spring in my step, a brightness in my chest that makes it hard to keep the smile off my face. The past few days have been blissful—no threats, no phone calls, no dark shadows hanging over us. Just peace and hope for the first time in what feels like forever. The news of my arrest has died down, and for a minute, my distorted relationship with Megra was all that was circulating. The felon and the mistress, the headlines read, but I could not care less. I’m eager to see Megra and Mia, my family. It’s a strange feeling, this happiness. I almost don’t trust it, like it could vanish at any moment, but I can’t help myself. At 50 years old, I am a father to the most beautiful 2-year-old daughter, and finally I have a woman I adore; no one will take this from me. The doctor’s good news about Archer’s recovery has also lifted a weight off my shoulders, and for once, the future doesn’t look so bleak. Even And
NathanielI rush through the hospital doors, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. I have to find out if what happened to Anna has anything to do with Megra's disappearance. I can't shake the feeling that everything is connected—that Megra is in danger, and time is running out."Andrew!" I shout, scanning the crowded hallway, pushing past people as I move further inside. My voice echoes off the sterile walls, blending with the noise of the busy hospital. I see him standing by the nurse's station, his face pale and tight with worry. When he hears me, he turns, and his eyes widen. He rushes over, and I can see the tension in his every step."What the fuck is going on, Nathaniel?" Andrew demands, grabbing my arm, his grip tight, almost bruising. What the hell is happening?""I don't know," I snap, pulling my arm free, my breath coming in ragged bursts. "But that's what I intend to find out." I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Megra got a phone call," I explain
NathanielI squeeze Anna’s hand, feeling the coldness of her skin against my own. Her eyes are glassy with pain and fear, but there’s a spark of clarity in them. Her usual well-maintained red hair in knots. She’s been through hell, but I need answers. "Anna," I say softly, leaning closer, "do you know where Becca took Megra?"She shakes her head, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "No," she whispers, her voice trembling. "I don’t know where she took her. I… I wish I did."I swallow back the frustration rising in my throat. "How did you find out it was Becca?" I press, hoping she has more information, something that could help us.Anna closes her eyes for a moment, as if gathering her strength. "I started having my suspicions after I saw the newspaper article," she begins slowly. "The one calling you an adulterer. Only you, Megra, and I knew about… about the divorce, about all of it. But I told Becca, I confided in her… Nathaniel, I thought she was my friend, but now I am sure she leak
The Story of Becca.I watch as Megra cautiously approaches the front door of her Stockton home, her eyes darting around as if she knows someone is watching her. She’s always been so paranoid, always looking over her shoulder. But today, her vigilance won’t save her. Today, she’s all mine.From my car parked across the street, I can see her every move. My heart races with excitement, my breath quickening as I prepare for what’s to come. I’ve waited so long for this moment, planning every detail. She has no idea what’s waiting for her. She thinks she’s safe here, in her own home. How wrong she is.I smile, a dark, twisted smile. She deserves what’s coming to her. After everything she’s done, after everything she’s taken from me, she deserves this. I glance at the metal rod on the seat next to me, my fingers itching to grab it and feel its weight in my hand. I can’t wait any longer. I need to do this now.“She made me do it,” I whisper to myself, my voice filled with venom. “She made me k
The Story of Becca Megra’s eyes are wide with fear, her lips trembling as she pleads. Her voice is a desperate whisper, filled with a panic that only fuels my resolve. She looks so small, so helpless, chained and bound. “Please, Becca,” she begs, her voice cracking. “Why are you doing this? Why?” I pause for a moment, staring at her. My eyes bore into hers, searching, dissecting. It’s like I’m looking right into her soul, seeing every little thing she’s ever taken from me, every single moment she’s made me feel small, insignificant, unwanted. I want her to feel that pain now to understand what she’s done. “I don’t think you should die just yet,” I say slowly, letting the words hang in the air, “without knowing the whole story.” I grab a wooden chair from the corner, dragging it across the floor with a slow, deliberate scrape that echoes through the room. I’m savouring the moment, relishing the fear in her eyes. I set the chair down in front of her and sit, crossing my legs calmly,
Megra“Nathaniel!” I scream, my voice tearing through the chaos as he bursts into the living room, Andrew right behind him. Smoke fills the air, thick and suffocating, and for a moment, all I can see are their silhouettes moving through the haze. My heart leaps with desperate, wild hope. They’ve come for me. They’ve come to save me.Becca’s laugh slices through the air, sharp and cold. Her eyes, wild with madness, flick from Nathaniel to me, and her lips curl into a sinister smile. “You see?” she snarls, her voice dripping with venom. “Even now, even in the face of danger, they run to you. Everyone runs to you, like moths to a flame. Well, then, they deserve your fate.”I watch, my breath catching in my throat, as she pulls a lighter from her pocket, the small flame flickering in the dim light. Fear claws at my insides. “Becca, no!” I shout, but she’s not listening. Her eyes are fixed on Nathaniel and Andrew, her hand steady as she holds the lighter.“Get back!” Becca screams, her voi