Four

“I don’t care if she did,” Silas muttered.

Fidelia wanted to wake up. She wanted to grab Silas by the throat and make him choke on every lie he’d ever told her. She wanted to tear Bridget apart piece by piece. But her body wouldn’t move. Not even an inch.

Keep me updated every hour, Alice ordered the doctor before they finally left.

Fidelia lay there listening to their footsteps fade, the room falling into heavy silence broken only by the beeping heart monitor and the slow drip of the IV.

They had fed the cops some ridiculous story about her tripping over her own wedding dress after coming home angry from the designer shop. How convenient.

But once the police were gone, the real conversation started.

“What if she wakes up?” Bridget’s voice was low and urgent.

“She won’t,” Alice said, but Fidelia could hear the shake in her hands.

“She might,” Silas cut in. “We can’t take that risk.”

Silence stretched.

“What are you suggesting?” Alice whispered.

“You know what I’m suggesting.” Silas’s voice was cold. “If she’s gone, this all goes away.”

Fidelia’s heart pounded so hard she thought the monitor would explode. They’re planning to kill me. My own family. My ex-fiancé. They actually want me dead.

The worst part? She couldn’t scream. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t call for help. She could only lie there, trapped, waiting for the end they were plotting.

Later that night, the door creaked open. Silas slipped in like the snake he was.

He checked the room, thinking she was deep in a coma, then sat beside her bed. He ran a hand over his face and sighed like this was all such a huge inconvenience.

“You just had to walk in at the wrong time,” he muttered, a faint smirk on his lips. “I was this close to finishing inside her. Wanted a third round, too.”

Fidelia’s chest ached worse than her cracked skull. What kind of twisted confession is this?

“Bridget’s been mine for two years, you know. Even before you said yes. Hell, even before I proposed.”

Two years. The words sliced deeper than any slap.

“She wanted this too. We planned everything — me, Bridget, and your stepmother. The marriage, the engagement… all of it. I wanted your shares. Your property. As your husband, it would’ve all been mine.”

His voice trembled with frustration. “But you… you had to ruin it by walking in.”

If only you had stayed in your place… none of this would’ve happened.

Fidelia’s silent tears slid down her face as he stood up and left.

But he wasn’t done.

Silas came back. He glanced at the door, then moved to the machines. He turned off the heart monitor. The beeping stopped. He pulled the oxygen mask from her face.

Fidelia’s body rebelled instantly — chest tightening, breaths short and desperate, trembling as she fought for air. No. Not like this. Not by him.

Silas just stood there, watching coldly. The alarm that should have brought nurses? Silent. No one was coming.

Her gasps grew weaker. The world blurred.

When he thought she was gone, he calmly put the mask back and switched the monitor on again, like nothing had happened.

……..

Fidelia woke up gasping, chest locked tight, sweat soaking her sheets. It had felt so real. Too real.

She snatched her phone with shaking hands and checked the time.

But why she saw was something else.

November 2024.

No. That wasn’t possible. She was supposed to be in 2025. She knew she was in 2025.

A chill crawled down her spine as the truth slammed into her. Whatever that nightmare had been… it wasn’t just a dream.