Chapter 3

Alessia

I woke up feeling nauseous.

My entire head was spinning, a splitting headache traveling from ear to ear.

I let out a groan and turned to the side, bile rising in my throat. There was an incessant beeping sound somewhere above me, worsening my disorientation.

“Miss? Can you hear the sound of my voice?”

After a few deep breaths, the nausea subsided. I shifted back onto my back, only to realize my entire body ached as though I had been lying there for far too long. My eyelids felt unbearably heavy; it took three full attempts to crack them open into a squint.

A bright light hit me immediately, and I winced.

“She’s responding to the light. Good,” a woman’s voice said. “Get the doctor. She might want to speak to him directly.”

I finally opened my eyes wide enough to take in my surroundings.

White. Sterile.

A hospital room.

I was lying on a bed, my arm stretched out across the mattress, tubes attached to it. Two nurses stood nearby, asking me questions I barely registered.

I tried to remember how I got here, and the memories slammed into my mind.

The failed brakes.

The speeding truck.

The panic.

The crash.

My baby.

Gasping, I scrambled into a sitting position, my hands flying to my stomach.

“My baby,” I pleaded. “Please… please tell me my baby is alright.”

“Please, take it easy, ma’am. You’re still very fragile,” one nurse said quickly.

A hand pressed gently against my shoulder, urging me back. “No sudden movements. You still need the saline drip.”

My heart was pounding violently. That baby was all I had left that was precious in this world.

I looked up at the two middle-aged nurses, desperation flooding my voice. “My baby? My baby?”

“Your pregnancy is completely fine, ma’am,” one of them reassured me. “Your abdomen was cushioned by the airbag during the collision. Do you remember the accident, Miss Alessia? I saw the name among your belongings.”

I nodded weakly, collapsing back against the pillows in overwhelming relief.

My baby was safe.

The pregnancy was still in its early stages—fragile. With all the trauma and stress I had endured, many pregnancies wouldn’t have survived. Let alone after a horrific accident.

“The doctor will answer any further questions you might have,” the nurse said, handing a clipboard to her colleague. “I’ll take your vitals now.”

As if on cue, the door opened and an elderly man in a white coat stepped inside. He took one look at me and smiled warmly.

“Ah, you’re awake. That’s good news,” he said. “How are her vitals?”

“So far, so good, Doctor.”

He nodded and stepped closer. “You’ve been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past few weeks, Miss Alessia. I’m glad to say both you and the baby are perfectly fine and healthy. You were very lucky—someone rescued you from the crash site and brought you here.”

I blinked at him, stunned. “Weeks? It’s been weeks?”

“Yes,” he replied calmly. “And you’ll still need a couple more weeks to recover fully. Fortunately, you didn’t suffer any broken bones. Just soft tissue damage and some internal bleeding, which we were able to treat.”

He gave me a reassuring look. “If you feel any pain or discomfort, be sure to inform the nurses immediately.”

I could not believe it—that I had spent weeks in this strange hospital, broken and unconscious.

“This person who helped me… I have to thank them,” I finally said. “Things might have turned out very differently if not for their kindness.”

The doctor tilted his head regretfully. “Well, you see, this good Samaritan didn’t wait long after dropping you off. They generously paid all your hospital bills and retrieved your belongings from the wreckage. I’m under obligation not to give away anything about them, if that is their wish.”

“What?” I frowned. “The least I can do is show my gratitude somehow.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” the doctor replied. “You’re alive and healthy, and that’s what matters. A checkbook was also left for you, with enough money to help you find your way once you’re discharged.”

A checkbook?

Why would a complete stranger do that?

I was so surprised and confused that I remained in a daze until the doctor and nurses finished their rounds and left the room.

“Oh, and one more thing, Miss Alessia.”

I looked up.

A soft smile crossed his face. “You are not expecting just one baby. The internal scan we performed showed the beginnings of multiple growing cell clumps. It’s still too early to tell whether they’re twins or triplets, but it is certain that you are carrying more than one child.”

My hands moved instinctively to my belly. “Really?”

It sounded beautiful—and terrifying—all at once. If not for my anonymous helper, how could I have hoped to take care of even one child?

“Please get some rest,” the doctor said gently. “The nurses will return with food.”

Then he left.

The television mounted on the wall opposite the bed was on mute, displaying some random show. I picked up the remote from my bedside and raised the volume, flipping through channels mindlessly—until a familiar name caught my eye in the news headline.

CONTI FAMILY CONFIRM DEATH OF ANOTHER FAMILY MEMBER IN CAR CRASH

I froze.

The screen displayed a horrifying image of twisted wreckage, and right in the center of it was my precious white Jeep. It was completely unrecognizable—a warped mess of burnt leather and mangled metal. My body went cold at the realization that I had survived such a crash.

The footage shifted to the crash site, where police officers and reporters crowded around. Standing in front of the cameras were Father and Mother, wearing sorrowful expressions.

“How could I lose my precious child so soon after burying my mother?” Father lamented to the reporter. “These are hard times for the Conti family, and coping with this loss will be very difficult.”

Wait.

I sat up straighter, staring at the screen.

They confirmed my death?

How was that even possible when they hadn’t found a body?

They went on and on, displaying grief they never felt, while I grappled with the lengths they were willing to go just to erase me. My brakes had failed. And now that I thought about it, my Jeep had been in perfect condition—even though I barely used it.

How could the brakes have suddenly stopped working?

And why were they so quick to declare me dead?

I thought I had known heartbreak before. But this—this shredded my heart completely, setting it ablaze with red-hot pain. Wounds that nothing could heal except vengeance.

My fingers tightened around the remote.

I would remain dead, just as they wanted. But I would return when the time was right—and I would serve them the evil they had dished out to me.

That was another vow, signed with blood and tears.

One month later

I was rejected again.

I let out a sigh and slumped onto the single couch in the middle of my apartment. The place still smelled of fresh paint, every sound echoing off bare walls.

After being discharged from the hospital, I left London. There was no point staying in a city where I was supposed to be dead.

My anonymous helper had saved all my belongings, including my travel documents. The large sum of money from the checkbook paid for a one-way flight to the United States and enough cash to rent this apartment.

I was furnishing it slowly while preparing for my pregnancy and trying to re-enter the workforce.

No reputable weather forecasting station would take me.

All I received were rejections.

I picked up my new phone and scrolled through the weather forecast articles I had previously written. They were gaining a lot of engagement, and readers were asking for more.

And then it hit me.

I didn’t need to work for anyone.

I could pour all my energy into creating this content on my own. It would be less stressful—and far more manageable—as my pregnancy progressed.