The hospital smelled the same. That mix of antiseptic, overworked air vents, and sleeplessness—the kind of exhaustion that clung to ceilings and curtain rails. I’d only been inside this place once before, but it had carved itself into memory: the cold trauma ward, the echo of clipped commands, the sting of blood in my lungs, but her face… Gabriella had been the only clear thing in all that noise.Now, as I strode through those doors again—this time with two young girls running forward, and grief pulsing just beneath the skin—I felt everything twist inward. A slow, relentless clench.She walked beside me. Silent. Pale. Her hair was loose, the strands trembling slightly each time she breathed. Nadia gripped her sister’s hand tightly, and Maya—brave-faced, jaw taut—kept her shoulders high even though I could tell she was shaking.They looked like they were used to being strong for one another.I guided them to the front desk, and that’s when she appeared—a woman in her fifties, sharp-eye
I sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, as if I moved too fast, I’d shatter. “What happened?”“He—he stormed out this evening. I didn’t mean to argue with him, but he was yelling, and I—” she broke off into a choked sob. “He got into an accident on his way out of town. They said it was bad, Gabi. They said his car flipped twice.”My breath caught. The room tilted.“Is he—” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.“He’s unconscious. They don’t know the extent of the damage yet, but there’s internal bleeding. He’s in surgery now.” Her voice dropped. “They don’t know if he’ll wake up.”I didn’t scream or gasp or panic.I just… stood. Quietly. Like a puppet being lifted by invisible strings. My hands moved to zip up my bag. My fingers moved through muscle memory. My heart did nothing.Maya stepped forward. “Gabby? What is it?”“We have to go,” I said, though I barely heard myself say it.Nadia was already moving closer, her brows drawn, voice shaking. “Is everything okay?”I swallowed the a
Maya’s hand was around mine, tight and shaking, dragging me toward the door as if we didn’t leave now, we’d never leave.And maybe she was right.Maybe I should’ve walked away the second Isaac’s mother asked if I’d slept with him—right there in front of his daughter, in front of Daphne, like I was nothing but dirt tracked in from the streets.“Gabby, please,” Maya whispered again. “Let’s just go. Please.”I didn’t respond.Because something was happening.Tiny feet slapped against marble.Then—“Nurse Gabby!”Avery’s voice cracked through the tension like glass.She ran straight to me, eyes wide, curls bouncing with every step. She wrapped her arms around my leg, holding on like she could keep me from leaving.“Please don’t go!” she cried. “Don’t go—“Maya froze beside me. So did the room.Daphne’s mouth twitched, but she said nothing.And Isaac’s mother just sighed, the way people do when they’re tired of pretending to care.I crouched, cupping Avery’s small face in my hands. “Sweeth
She stepped closer“Let me give you a reality check, Miss Carlos,” she said, her tone shifting into something lower, colder. “People like you shouldn’t even step foot into houses like this. Let alone think you could belong.”I should’ve walked out.But my feet wouldn’t move.Avery was still next to me, her small fingers tightening around mine, confused by the shift in air, by the way the adults were no longer pretending.Isaac moved forward again. “Mother, you’re humiliating her in front of my daughter—”“She humiliated herself the moment she thought she belonged here,” she snapped, finally turning toward him. “You think Sarah was a mistake? This would be your ruin.”And then—she turned back to me.Stepped so close I could smell the bitter floral perfume clinging to her skin.Her hand lifted slowly. I didn’t know if she meant to slap me, or touch me, or crush what dignity I had left—But she stopped.Because the front doors burst open.And two voices echoed in the entryway—“Gabby?”I
I didn’t sleep.Not even a little.I spent the entire night trying to piece my home back together—sweeping up glass with trembling hands, taping broken cabinet doors like that, which could somehow make the place feel whole again.It didn’t.Every creak of the floorboard made me jump.Every shadow made me sick to my stomach.I kept the lights on. All of them. I couldn’t stand the dark. Not after the silence I walked into last night. Not after seeing my reflection in the mirror, right beneath that message.What did that even mean?Was it Daphne?Was it someone else?Was I stupid for thinking I could survive a house like that? A man like Isaac?I sat on the couch at some point—crumbs from a shattered picture frame still stuck to the throw pillow beside me—and just… stared at nothing.My phone buzzed around 3 a.m. I didn’t look at it right away. I thought it might be him. Isaac. I didn’t want to hear his voice. I didn’t trust what it might make me feel.But later, I checked.It wasn’t him
I hadn’t meant to listen. I’d come to say something important, something real—But the second I heard her voice through the door, I didn’t move.Couldn’t.The things she said. The things he didn’t say.The way his voice sounded—angrier than I’d ever heard it - like something inside him was splintering.Who was Sarah? What really happened with her?I swallowed hard, my fingers curling against my palm.Because suddenly, it wasn’t just about Daphne anymore.It was about the shadows in this house.The silences filled every room.The ghost I hadn’t even realized I was walking in the footsteps of.Was that why Daphne hated me?Because I reminded her of Sarah?Or because I might become something worse—Someone Isaac would choose.I didn’t go to my room.Didn’t head back toward the guest wing where everything could stay silent and untouched.Instead, I turned toward the kitchen.Clara was there.She wasn’t young. Probably hadn’t been for a while.And there was something about her eyes—the ki