Chapter 4: Dead People Don’t Talk

Elena’s POV

When I regained consciousness, I found myself lying in a shabby hospital room. Glancing around, I felt a flurry of panic in my chest, but I was still groggy from the anesthetic.

My uterus was throbbing with a dull, steady ache. At first, I didn’t understand why. But then the scene right before I went under came back to me in bits and pieces.

The throbbing in my uterus was residual pain, I realized with a heavy heart.

From the abortion.

Biting my lip, tears sprung to my eyes. Lucian’s signature on the medical consent form flashed through my mind. He had orchestrated the whole thing. But why? Why would he go to such great lengths to cause me so much pain?

Just then, the door opened. With my sight still foggy, I squinted. Whoever it was just stood there, one hand on her hip.

Moments later, my vision sharpened and I realized that it was Lydia.

“Did you have a nice nap, Sleeping Beauty?” Lydia said, her voice mocking.

“How could you do this to me?” I asked, struggling to sit up. Fury rose in me. “You were my best friend. You lied to Lucian about the medical report. You called me an adulteress.”

“So what?” Lydia said, shrugging dismissively. “You’re not worthy of Lucian. You’re just a pathetic, useless housewife. So what if I lied. It doesn’t matter. Lucian was never going to let you give birth, his child or not. It’s my child he wants. Because it’s me he wants. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Her tone was so complacent, so matter-of-fact, it caught me off guard.

Was Lydia right? Was it always Lucian’s intention to kick me to the curb? He’d forced me to have an abortion without even verifying whether the baby was his or not. Sitting there, in that hospital bed, I saw the full extent of Lucian’s cruelty.

Narrowing my eyes, I forced a calm façade that I didn’t feel. Lydia was stone cold, and I was determined to be the same.

“It’s illegal though,” I said, locking eyes with her. “Forcing someone to have an abortion against their will. I’ll find a lawyer and I’ll take you both to court. You’re an accomplice in all this as far as I’m concerned. I will avenge my baby’s death through the courts.”

Lydia suddenly laughed. “Seriously?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You can’t really be that dumb. Lucian bribed the doctor and the nurse. He gave them enough money to keep them quiet, even under oath. And besides, it will never go to court anyway.”

There was something unsettled about her tone. “And why’s that?” I asked.

“Look around, Elena,” she replied, taking a step towards the bed. “Does this look like a typical hospital room to you?”

Glancing around, I had to admit that no, it did not. The curtains were old and thread bare. The blanket was made of scratchy yarn. And to my left were several oxygen tanks. The room smelled musty, old. It lacked the sharp and pungent permeation of disinfectant.

“Lucian had this room specially prepared,” Lydia said, reaching into her purse. My eyes followed her hand. “Just for you. You’re not getting out of here, Elena.”

My mouth went dry. “What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice suddenly hoarse as my skin goosebumps ran down my arm.

“Let’s just say…” Lydia replied, pulling something out of her purse. My eyes widened. She was holding a lighter. “You can’t take us to court if you’re five feet under the ground.”

To my horror, she lit the corner of the blanket. Panicked, I realized that most of the things in the room were highly flammable. I struggled to move, but my body was still under the grips of the anesthetic.

“Ooops,” Lydia said, as she lit the other corner of the blanket. “Looks like a fire is about to break out. An accidental fire, of course.”

The blanket was on fire now, the flames spreading towards me. I willed my body to move, but it wouldn’t. Smoke began to billow. Once the flames hit the oxygen tanks, they would explode. I had to get out of here.

Lydia strode towards the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned to face me. “Yes, it was an illegal surgery,” she said. “But no one will ever know. Do you know why? Because dead people can’t talk, Elena.”

“Please,” I begged. The flames were starting up my legs. The bedsheets had caught fire. The smoke was already making me cough. “Don’t do this.”

But Elena only pressed her lips together and said, with a sardonic smile:

“Do what?”

Then she turned on her heel and left, closing the door behind her.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as the flames licked at my legs. It was only a matter of time before the fire reached the oxygen tanks. My hatred for Lucian burned red hot, as hot as the flames that threatened to engulf me. 

The bedside table caught fire. The flames were only inches from the oxygen tanks now. The fire crept up the curtains, releasing heavy, thick black smoke that burned my eyes.

I was going to die here. I was going to burn to death, and all because of Lucian. I regretted the day I ever met him. Coughing and wheezing, I braced myself for the inevitable explosion that would take my life.

But then, out of nowhere, the door flung open…

…and a strange figure suddenly rushed in.