RAMONWe left the hospital just after midnight.Phoebe didn’t say much on the drive. She kept staring out the window, arms crossed tight against her chest. I could feel her tension, like a string pulled so tight it might snap at any second. My hands gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.“She’s going to be okay,” I finally said.Phoebe looked over. Her eyes were tired, red-rimmed. “I know. I just... can’t stop thinking about what almost happened. If Stephen hadn’t gotten that call…”I nodded. “Yeah.”We pulled off the main road and drove toward the edge of town. Trees flanked either side of the narrow path now. No streetlights. No houses. Just the sound of tires crunching gravel.“Are you sure this is the place?” Phoebe asked quietly.“Stephen tracked it,” I said. “Remote surveillance pinged Richard’s last known signal here. It’s the best lead we’ve got.”We reached the old building, a small, abandoned warehouse sitting in the woods like a forgotten
STEPHEN We moved fast.I grabbed Winnie’s hand as we ran through the hospital corridor. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, and my heart pounded louder than my footsteps.“Stephen,” she said, breathless. “Where do we go?”“Room 207,” I said. “We need to get there first. Lock it down.”She nodded. “I’m with you.”We reached the elevator. Too slow. I turned, yanked open the stairwell door, and we took the stairs two at a time.“I can’t believe this is real,” Winnie said, her voice shaking.I glanced at her. “It’s real. And if we don’t stop them, Teresa dies.”We reached the second floor, sprinted out into the hallway. The hospital was eerily quiet. I could hear the squeak of a janitor’s mop somewhere in the distance, but everything else felt... frozen.I turned the corner.Room 207.I pushed the door open, and there she was, Teresa. Still unconscious. IV drip beside her, bandages wrapped around her shoulder and midsection. Machines beeped steadily.“She doesn’t even know someone
STEPHENRamon’s voice on the phone sounded like a punch.“We found Teresa.”My heart skipped. “Where?”“She’s alive. Barely. We’re at Crestwood Hospital. Come now.”He hung up.I stared at my phone for a second, then turned to Winnie.She looked up from the couch, eyes sharp. “That was Ramon?”“She’s alive,” I said. “Teresa’s alive.”Winnie stood immediately, grabbed her coat. “Let’s go.”The hospital smelled like antiseptic and heartbreak.Phoebe was pacing outside Room 207. Her eyes were swollen. Her shirt had dried blood on it.“Is she…?” I asked.“She’s stable,” Phoebe whispered. “But she’s bad, Stephen. She was bleeding. Shaking.”Winnie stepped forward. “Can we see her?”“Doctor said only one at a time.”“Let him go,” Ramon said quietly from the corner. “She knows his voice.”Inside, Teresa looked small.Smaller than I’d ever seen her.She had tubes in her arm. A bandage across her head. Her face was pale, lips cracked. But she was breathing. That was enough.I sat beside her.“
PHOEBEI woke up gasping. My skin was damp with sweat, my breath shallow and panicked. My hands were clenching the sheets, trembling. The nightmare still lingered in my head, Ramon, bleeding out, calling my name and then going silent."Ramon?" I called out.No answer.I got out of bed fast, my feet barely touching the cold floor as I rushed toward the window. The night was quiet, too quiet.“Ramon?” I called again, louder this time.Then I saw him, standing outside on the balcony. The door was slightly open, the curtain swaying gently in the breeze. He stood there shirtless, his back to me, arms resting on the railing. The moonlight kissed his skin. He looked deep in thought.I walked to the door and pushed it open wider. The air was cooler out there. Still. Quiet.“Ramon…” My voice cracked.He turned, startled. “Phoebe?”I stood in the doorway, hugging my arms around myself. “I thought you were gone.”He frowned and stepped toward me. “Gone? What do you mean?”I didn’t know how to sa
TERESAI could barely stand.My legs were shaking, my shoulder burned, and blood was pouring down my side. My hands were slippery with it. I didn’t know if it was mine or his. Maybe both.The room was spinning.I stumbled forward, bumping into the wall. I needed to get out. Now. I didn’t know how long he’d stay down. I didn’t trust him to stay unconscious.I turned around, just for a second.Richard was lying on the ground, motionless. His face was bruised. Blood was dripping from his mouth. My knife was still on the floor beside him.I should’ve finished it.I should’ve ended him.But I couldn’t.Not because I wasn’t strong enough, physically, I was trained for this. I knew all the ways to kill a man quickly. I’d done it before.But something stopped me.His face.Not the monster I’d come to know, but the man who once read me bedtime stories. The man who handed me my first knife and said, “Use this to protect yourself.”I hated him.But part of me… remembered loving him.That part ma
RICHARDShe came in like I always knew she would.I was sitting in that dusty old chair near the window, the one with the broken leg I never bothered to fix. I didn’t flinch when I heard the door creak open. Didn’t even bother to look up right away. I knew it was her. I could feel it in my bones, that familiar storm walking through the room."Teresa."Her footsteps echoed faintly through the broken silence. Careful. Measured. Hesitant. But I could hear the tremble beneath each step. She was scared, and trying hard to mask it with anger. I didn’t move. I stayed seated, elbows resting on my knees, staring at the scuffed floor of the abandoned room I’d chosen to hide in. When I finally lifted my gaze, our eyes met.She was holding a gun.I nodded slowly, not shocked. “I figured it’d come to this.”Her grip on the gun tightened. Both hands were wrapped around it, but they were trembling, just enough to notice. “Don’t talk. Just sit there.”I leaned back in the chair, calm, like we were ol