Eveliina Hayward.Sunday. 29th June. Next day.I’m having breakfast with my husband. The quiet between us is broken only by the sweet chatter of our two-year-old daughter, Irene. She babbles about everything. Her toy horse, her cereal, the color of her spoon. And I listen, I smile, but I’m not really here. I'm in the hospital. Grandma. She looks so much like my grandmother. And like her father. Her real father. My throat tightens. The resemblance brings both comfort and ache. Comfort, because she looks like grandma. Ache, because Grandma still lies unconscious in a hospital bed and because Irene is growing more like her real dad. The face. I banish the memory. We’re heading to the hospital after breakfast. I need to eat, focus on that. But right now, the food sits untouched on my plate.“Why aren’t you eating?” Jace asks gently.I look up at him. A small, strained smile forms on my lips. He studies me, his tone even softer when he says, “You know you need to eat… for the baby.” No
Ashley.Evening.I’m lying in Hulio’s bed, his strong arms draped protectively around my bare waist. His warmth wraps around me like a shield. For a moment, I let myself believe this is peace. Yet, I know I can't have peace with him, because he can't give me what I need.Then my phone vibrates on the nightstand again. This time, I turn to it.I shift carefully, trying not to wake him. When I check the screen, my stomach sinks.I slide out from under his arm, grabbing his shirt and slipping it on as I pad downstairs. In the kitchen, I answer the call on the fourth ring.“Hi.”“What the fuck is wrong with you? You had one of my boys kill your grandmother?”The voice on the other end chills my spine. My body trembles. “No…NO. She isn’t dead. She survived…”“You better pray she does. If she dies before naming her successor, everything goes to waste.” His tone is hard. I feel it settle over me like ice. Dripping with menace.He’s right. Grandma hasn’t made her final declarations yet. I let
Jon Grevekstoke.Saturday, 28th June. Next day.Morning. 7 a.m.The hallway is already humming, nurses changing shifts, doors opening, monitors beeping. Life continues, as always. But for us, for Elviira Hills' familythe world has stopped. It’s dimmed, muffled, suspended.Mia Curry, my girlfriend, sits beside me. Her fingers are laced through mine, squeezing gently. Trying to ground me. But I’m hollow.“She’ll be fine, babe. I promise.” Mia’s voice is soft as she leans in and kisses my hair.We’ve been at the hospital since midnight. We left the club immediately after Dad’s call. One minute, I was laughing and dancing with Mia. The next, I was cold.‘What?’ I’d asked, already stepping outside to hear him better.‘Your grandmother… someone rammed into her…’‘Where’s Mum? Is she alright?’‘She’s fine. Just meet us at Central Hospital.’The call ended. I pulled Mia with me. My car ate the road as I tore through traffic, desperate to get here.‘Slow down, babe.’ Mia had tried calming me. B
Anniika Grevelstoke.Present day. Friday, June 27th.New York. 11 p.m.Ring! Ring! Ring!I groan in frustration, reaching blindly for the phone. Exhaustion washes over me in heavy waves. Who calls at this hour? When I glance at the screen, I freeze. Helia Ripples. Mum’s lawyer.I frown. Why would he call this late? Business hours ended hours ago.“Brian…” I nudge my husband. “Helia Ripples is calling me.” I eye the screen warily.“Mm… answer it, Ani. Or just switch it off.” His voice is a groggy mix of sleep and irritation.“What if it’s something about the business? You told me their firm’s expanding our ship building operations overseas,” I whisper. That gets his attention. He peeks one eye open.“Shouldn’t he be calling me instead?” He mutters. We exchange a look before he snatches the phone and calls Helia back.A second later, he passes it to me. “He says it’s for you.” His face is unreadable.My stomach drops. The last time I got a late-night call like this, Richmond died. Then
Elviira Hills.Finland. October, 1981. 44 years earlier…I’m lying on the hill. The crisp air stings, already turning toward winter. The wind rustles the golden glades around us. Water laps gently below, but I hear none of it. Just my heartbeat pounding in my ears as he moves inside me. Kristian Koivunen. The one my heart beats for. The one kissing me softly, reverently, like the wind stroking these trees that surround us.“Elviira… I love you so much.” His whisper breaks on a groan, thick with ache. Need. The kind that comes from holding too much emotion. Holding too much of me. I already know he loves me. I feel it in every caress, every look. Just as I will always love him.He once promised to name our first daughter after me. It frightened me, because what if we never get that chance? What if Father succeeds in tearing us apart? And something keeps telling me he will.“I love you, Kristian…” I whisper, threading my fingers through his golden hair as my body clenches around him. He
Tana.Later…I’m done with work for the day and heading home. I live across town, and it gets tiresome having to board buses every evening. But I have no choice. My car broke down two years ago, and between my house mortgage, Mum’s hospital bills, and Dad’s gambling debts, I haven’t been able to replace it.I’ve had my eyes set on this fabulous blue car, sleek, simple, elegant. I would have been able to afford it if I had completed the task Miss Ashley gave me. She promised a handsome pay if I kept feeding her mum those pills. Well, so much for dreams.I sit on the bus now, staring at the car’s photo on my phone, silently saying goodbye. I didn’t know the pills were wrong. I genuinely thought I was helping. But now that I do know, I feel sick. No car, no comfort, no luxury is worth destroying another person’s life.I draw in a shaky breath, choking slightly on the mix of exhaust and the sour scent of unwashed bodies crammed into the bus. This isn't the life I imagined. I wanted to be