“I don’t know—she just collapsed—”
Before I could finish, Mira stepped forward, voice shaking like she was crying.
“I saw Aria near Grandma’s drink earlier… she was doing something with it.”
Silence hit the room instantly.
Every head turned to me.
“What?” I whispered. “No— I didn’t—”
“I didn’t want to say anything,” Mira continued, tears forming perfectly. “But I can’t stay quiet if Grandma was in danger.”
“You’re lying!” I screamed.
Julian grabbed my arm so hard it hurt. “Did you poison my grandmother?”
“No! Julian, I swear—”
“Answer me!” he shouted.
“I didn’t do anything!” My voice broke. “I would never hurt her—never—”
But he wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes were burning with anger I had never seen before.
“Get out,” he said quietly. “Before I do something I can’t undo.”
“Julian, please—”
He leaned in close, his voice dropping into something worse than anger.
“You’re nothing without me,” he whispered. “Nothing without my family. Without us, you’re just a nobody with nothing to her name.”
His words sank in like poison.
“So remember that,” he added. “Because I can take everything from you. And you won’t be able to stop me.”
I woke up to bright white walls and the steady rhythm of machines beeping around me. My body felt strangely heavy, like something essential had been pulled out and never put back.
“Ms. Calloway.” A nurse stepped into view beside my bed, her voice gentle. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
I tried to answer, but my throat was dry and rough. She helped me with a cup of water, and I drank slowly, fragments of memory rushing back one by one.
The locked room. The darkness pressing in. The walls that felt like they were closing in on me.
Julian’s voice outside the door: “Stay there until you admit what you did.”
I remembered screaming until my throat tore, begging, pounding on the door until my hands bled. My claustrophobia took over—air disappearing, space shrinking, my chest tightening until I couldn’t tell where I ended anymore.
Then everything went black.
“The baby,” I whispered suddenly, my hand flying to my stomach.
The nurse’s expression changed immediately. “I’m so sorry. You miscarried. The stress, the trauma your body went through—”
Her voice faded into background noise.
The baby was gone.