It was as if her heart pounded so violently it felt as though it might burst from her chest, in that moment-all things blurred and distorted in her mind. Her hands, which had been resting idly at her sides, now gripped the edge of the table as if they could anchor her to the ground, "W-w-wha-" she couldn't form a word as everything seemed too confusing to her right now, she supported herself by the table, "Hello Ms. Miller," a voice suddenly spoke.
"It's great to hear that you're awake, oh my goodness!" It was Theo's homeroom teacher "Hello, Ms. Park, where is Theo?" She continued, "I really need to speak to him, please call him." She said hurriedly as she didn't want to waste any more time without him, but the other person remained silent. "Hello, Ms. Park!?" She was now grew frustrated as she ran her hand over her head.
"Where's theo, call him now." She was feeling uneasy, her whole body trembling. "Savannah, what are you talking about?" Her eyebrows knitted in confusion, "It's been a year since theo died."
The words landed like a blow to her chest, and for a moment, the world seemed to collapse in on itself. The rhythmic beeping of her heart monitor slowed, each pulse dragging in heavy, tortured seconds. Her breath caught in her throat, as if her lungs had forgotten their purpose. She stared at the phone, her vision blurring, unable to fully comprehend the enormity of what Ms. Park had just said. It was as though the air itself had thickened, pressing in on her from all sides.
"Stop making jokes about my child," she managed to rasp, her voice raw with disbelief, a tremor running through every syllable. Her hands tightened around the phone as if the grip could somehow steady her spiraling thoughts. "I will fucking sue you," she snapped, the words slicing through the tension like a knife. Her mind raced with indignation, the injustice of it all threatening to swallow her whole. "How can you say something like that about a child?" Her voice cracked on the final question, a wave of disgust rising from deep within her.
Savannah felt the rage building in her chest, the kind of fury that made her feel like her insides were about to explode. How could she say that? Her own child's teacher—someone who should have been an advocate, a protector—had said something so vile. It felt like a betrayal, a violation of trust that shook her to her core.
The teacher's voice came back cold and detached, the words like daggers. "If you don't believe me, ask anyone around you Ms. Miller." And with that, the line went dead, the silence that followed heavier than the weight of any insult.
Savannah stood frozen, the phone still pressed to her ear. Her mind spun, trying to make sense of the conversation, trying to make sense of the cruelty. The disconnect felt like a final insult—a definitive end to a conversation she couldn't even begin to process. She wanted to scream, to do something, but all she could do was stare at the now-blank screen, heart pounding in her ears.
Sighing, she nuetralized her irregular breathing and paced out of the room, hoping to find Theo. She has only been unconscious for 3 days, and they talking about a year? She don't believe it.
And go on to find Theo later she'll have a talk with Homeroom teacher.
As she paced through the unfamiliar, oppressive silence of the house, everything around her felt wrong—alien. The air was thick, heavy with a tension she couldn't quite place, and the walls seemed to close in with every step she took. But as she turned a corner, a glimpse of something softer caught her eye—a view of a garden, lush and vibrant, but distant, as though it were an oasis locked behind an invisible barrier. It was strange to see nature here, in this cold, impersonal place. The room she found herself in felt like an entirely different world—an isolated, tiny house just behind the imposing mansion, a far cry from the grandiosity of the structure beyond.
Savannah's footsteps echoed in the narrow halls as she walked, the sound unnerving in its solitude. She passed several men stationed outside, their eyes tracking her with unnerving scrutiny. Their gazes held something she couldn't decipher—something that made her skin crawl. Were they watching her with suspicion? Or was it something worse? She didn't stop to figure it out. Her mind was elsewhere, focused on only one thing.
She continued into the mansion, her heart pounding louder with each step, and as she entered the grander, more ostentatious part of the house, she nearly collided with Blaze. He was coming out of a room, carrying a tray in his hands, his movements almost mechanical.
"Sava—" he started, but before he could finish, she was already walking past him, her gaze fixed straight ahead, her heart racing too fast to care. The words didn't register; the plea in his voice didn't reach her. There was only one thing in the world she needed to see, one person who could quell the storm of emotions tearing through her.
Her baby.
Nothing else mattered. Nothing else could heal the raw ache in her chest except the sight of him.
Savannah walked faster, the weight of each step pulling her down, as if the hurt inside her had manifested physically. She knew where to find him, knew his favorite spot in this sprawling, sterile mansion. His room. It was the one place in this entire house that had once felt like home—a sanctuary, a place where she could hold him, comfort him, and feel like everything would be okay.
But now, the thought of reaching that room was both a relief and a wound. She was so close, and yet, the hurt of seeing him, knowing how much she'd been torn from him, felt unbearable. With each step, she could feel her heart crack a little more. But she kept going. She had to.
"Theo!" She called out his name, but he didn't answer. "Theodore Miller!" she called out his full name, which everytime worked if something like this ever happened but again no answer came. He didn't answer. She became more scared. The room was cleaner than before, but everything belonging to Theo was still there, but where was he? She left the room, pacing towards the main living room.
"Where's Theo?" Savannah demanded, her voice sharp, the tension in her chest barely contained. Blaze, standing in the living room, watched her with growing confusion as she walked past him, completely ignoring his presence. His brow furrowed, his mind racing to catch up with her sudden intensity.
"I asked where's Theo?" Savannah repeated, her frustration bubbling over as she ran a hand through her disheveled hair, her fingers trembling.
Blaze hesitated for a moment, then took a cautious step toward her. "Savannah, what are you talking about?" he asked, his voice low and concerned, but with an edge of confusion. He didn't understand.
Savannah's eyes narrowed as she backed away from him, the distance between them growing. She couldn't make sense of his reaction. She had to know. She wasn't going to stand there and have him pretend that nothing was wrong.
"Where is Theo?" she demanded again, her voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and disbelief. The words caught in her throat, but she refused to let it show. She could feel the tightness in her chest, the lump forming, but she wouldn't break. Not yet.
Blaze looked even more perplexed, his expression flickering with concern and confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Her anger rising like a storm within her, the raw emotion making it harder to breathe. It wasn't just about him. It wasn't just about Theo. It was everything—everything that felt wrong, everything that had shifted beneath her feet.
Blaze stepped closer, his face still etched in confusion. "Savannah, what's going on? Talk to me," he said, reaching out as if trying to calm her.
But Savannah couldn't stand it any longer. The questions, the unknowns, the sense that something was slipping through her fingers. She took a deep breath, her voice breaking through the pressure in her chest, louder now, fiercer.
"Tell me what's going on!" she shouted, her hands trembling at her sides. "I need to know! I want to see my child! Now!"
Her words hung in the air, an explosion of emotion that rattled the stillness of the room. Her pulse hammered in her ears as she searched his face for an answer, for any sign of the truth. But all she saw was more confusion, more silence—and it made her blood boil.
Then Blaze reapproached her and took her shoulder in his grip. "Savannah, it's not the right time to discuss this," he said softly. "You need to focus on your recovery."
The vague responses and evasive answers only fueled her anxiety, She could sense the undercurrent of something tragic but unspoken, and the walls of the room seemed to close in around her, pressing down with the weight of her unanswered questions, Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she tried to read the faces around her, each one reflecting a shadow of despair she didn't fully understand.
"Tell me." Savannah demanded a reply with an unemtional face. She stared directly into Blaze's eyes with something that even Blaze could not read. It was as dark as the night, emotionless, so Blaze understood what he had to say now, how he should say it again? For a time, he knew she had no memory of that moment, otherwise she wouldn't have asked something like this again.
When the words finally came, they were like shards of glass, cutting through the fragile veneer of control she'd been desperately holding on to. Blaze's voice was quiet, almost gentle, but it shattered her nonetheless.
"Theo's... passed away, Savannah." He paused, as if giving her a moment to process, but the words continued, each one heavier than the last. "Theo passed away a year ago."
A slap rang out, sharp and brutal, as her hand collided with his cheek. The sound echoed in the room, but it was drowned by the deafening rush of blood pounding in her ears.
The world tilted on its axis. The room around her seemed to warp and twist, spinning violently as if caught in the center of a storm she couldn't escape. Her knees buckled slightly, but she steadied herself, the impact of his words pressing down on her chest like a crushing weight.
Her breath hitched, each inhale shallow, ragged. Her heart was a drum, erratic and out of control, threatening to stop entirely under the weight of what she was hearing. It was impossible. It couldn't be true.
"No," she whispered, the sound coming out as a broken plea. She shook her head, as though that simple act could push the reality away. "You're wrong. This... this isn't true." Her voice was strained, the desperation in it thick and suffocating as she took unsteady steps back, as if she could somehow distance herself from the words, from the truth.
"I was asleep for only a week," she muttered, her own confusion mixing with the disbelief. "Theo? A year ago?" Her laugh was bitter, a fractured sound that didn't reach her eyes. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to break something—anything. "Stop with your jokes about my kid!" she spat, her face twisted in fury, but the tears that threatened her eyes only made the anger sharper. She couldn't accept it. Not like this. Not in the cruel, cold way he was telling her.
Blaze stood there, the sting of her slap fading in the wake of the heavier moment. He didn't flinch or even seem to care that she'd hit him. He didn't try to stop her or yell back. If anything, his expression was heavy with something deeper—grief, regret, sorrow that he couldn't undo what had been done.
"A week?" Blaze's brow furrowed slightly, and he took a step closer to her, his gaze never leaving hers. "It's been a year since you were in a coma, Savannah." The words were like the final blow, the cold reality settling in like a stone in her stomach.
The silence between them stretched, thick and suffocating. Savannah stood frozen, the weight of his words crashing over her in waves, the room spinning faster now. She wanted to scream. She wanted to break everything. How was this even possible? How could she have lost a year? How could she have been gone for so long? And Theo... her baby…
Her mind couldn't catch up. It wouldn't. It was a truth too heavy to hold, too brutal to face.
Her mind raced, struggling to make sense of the torrent of emotions crashing through her. The disbelief was suffocating, drowning her in confusion. "A year ago?" she repeated, the words feeling alien on her tongue. "What happened? Why—why was I in a coma?" Her voice trembled, wavering between panic and frustration, the questions spilling out of her faster than she could catch them. It felt like the ground beneath her was shifting, pulling her into an abyss of uncertainty.
Blaze's expression hardened, his eyes darkening with something deeper than just concern—regret, perhaps, or an unsettling kind of sorrow. He exhaled sharply, the breath heavy with the weight of the conversation he knew he had to have. He took a step closer to her, his gaze soft but resolute. "Savannah," he began, his voice lower, more measured. "I'll tell you everything. But right now isn't the right time. You need to calm down first."
His words were meant to soothe, to offer some sense of control in the chaos of her mind, but they only fueled the fire burning inside her. She was beyond calming down. Every word out of his mouth felt like another layer of the cruel reality she didn't want to accept.
"Stop making up things!" she snapped, her voice growing more desperate, more guttural with each passing second. She stepped toward him, her hands trembling at her sides, but her face set in an expression of defiance. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. She could feel the anger building up, twisting in her chest. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now.
Blaze took a step back, the tension between them thickening. His gaze softened, but there was no way to calm her now, no easy words to undo the damage. "Savannah, please, just listen—"
But she wasn't listening anymore. She was too far gone, her world shattering at the seams. Her body trembled, fighting against the overwhelming tide of emotions crashing through her. She wasn't the woman she was before. Not anymore. She was someone else—someone who had just been torn apart and was desperately clinging to whatever piece of herself remained.
All around them, Blaze's people watched silently from the edges of the room. They were still, their faces unreadable, their eyes following every move, every shift in the atmosphere between Savannah and Blaze. To them, it felt like they were witnessing a stranger unravel in front of them. This was not the woman they knew. Her behavior was erratic, foreign, like a shadow of the person she once was.
But none of them intervened. No one spoke up or tried to stop her. They merely observed—silent, almost motionless, as if frozen by the intensity of the moment. The air was thick with tension, and they all seemed to hold their breath, unsure of what would happen next, unsure if Savannah would explode or collapse under the weight of everything she was finally learning.
But Savannah? She didn't care about them. She didn't care about anything except the need to understand—to make sense of this nightmare.
In contrast, Blaze just stood there, doing nothing but watching Savannah, hoping she finally got it. He didn't know what to do or how to get her to believe in this? Finally, a tear ran down Savannah's cheeks all the way down to the floor. "Please, someone just tell me the truth," her voice was now just audible, trembling as she stared at each individual inside the mansion but no one responded.
With a mixture of sorrow and sadness in his face, Blaze said, "We're trying to protect you. You need to be strong for yourself and for your people."
Protect her? From what? The protective barrier of silence only deepened her sense of isolation and fear. She felt a growing frustration, a helpless anger that she couldn't direct anywhere but inward. Her body ached with the strain of lying in the bed, and her mind raced through a thousand scenarios, each more terrifying than the last.
In the suffocating weight of her grief, Savannah fought to maintain her composure, to stay upright. Her body trembled with exhaustion, but her resolve—no matter how fragile—remained unbroken. She couldn't crumble. She wouldn't.
"Please," she whispered, her voice a raw, broken sound. Tears began to streak down her face, each one a painful release of everything she'd been holding in for so long, and the dam finally broke. Her chest heaved with the weight of the agony she'd been suppressing, her body wracked with sobs. "I need to know. I need to see Theo." The words were torn from her, desperate and frantic, and with them came the flood she'd been holding back for what felt like an eternity.
Blaze's heart twisted, seeing her like this, but he steeled himself, knowing he had to deliver the truth. He could see the pain in her eyes, could feel the way her entire being seemed to collapse with each passing second.
"Savannah, this is the truth. You have to believe it," Blaze said, his voice thick with sorrow, but his words were only met with a scream of rejection.
"YOU'RE ALL LYING!!" Savannah shrieked, her voice cracking, echoing through the mansion with such force that even the guards outside must have heard it. It reverberated through the walls, the sound of her broken heart tearing the silence apart.
In that moment, the door swung open, and Elijah burst into the room. His eyes locked on the scene before him—Blaze standing just inches from Savannah, who was on the verge of falling apart. The sight of her, pale and broken, her face streaked with tears, hit him like a punch to the gut. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected her to wake up after an entire year of silence, and yet here she was, unraveling before him.
"I'm fucking not believing it!" Savannah screamed, the rawness of her pain infecting her every word.
She tried to stand again, her legs trembling with weakness, but they betrayed her, and she crumpled to the floor in a heap of despair. Her hands, slick with tears, pressed against the cold, unforgiving floor as if she could somehow ground herself in the face of all the chaos inside her.
Blaze, feeling more helpless than he had in a long time, didn't know what to do. Seeing her like this—vulnerable, broken—was tearing him apart. His chest tightened, but he didn't show it. Instead, he gave a quick, urgent gesture to Arthur, his ever-watchful secretary who had been observing everything with quiet precision. Arthur nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. He swiftly moved up the stairs, and after what felt like an eternity, he returned, papers in hand.
Blaze rushed to Savannah's side, kneeling beside her as she sat on the floor, her sobs echoing in the hollow space. He gently placed the papers in front of her, his voice calm but firm. "Here, see." His words were steady, but there was a tightness in his throat. "This is his death certificate, some photos, and an invoice for the funeral home."
Savannah's eyes flicked over the papers, her hands shaking as she stared at them, still not fully able to grasp the reality of what was unfolding. She was skeptical—more than skeptical. How could this be true? she wondered. How could she have been in a coma for a year? How could Theo be gone?
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the papers, but she did. She grabbed them, her hand unsteady, and pulled them close. She sat there on the cold floor, her tear-streaked face pale and stricken, the weight of everything crashing down on her with every breath.
For a long moment, she just stared at the papers, the death certificate, the photos, and the funeral invoice in her lap. It felt like the room was suffocating her, the air thick with the reality she still couldn't accept. The words on the page were surreal, impossible. Theo's death certificate?
She glanced up at Blaze, her eyes raw, searching his face for any hint that this was some cruel joke, that they were playing with her mind. But no. She saw only sorrow there. Only a quiet resignation that tore at her soul.
With shaking hands, she began to read, the words blurring through her tears. And with each line she read, the impossible truth began to sink in. It was all real. It was all true.
But even as the words on the page told her what her heart refused to believe, the pain of losing Theo—her baby, her world—crashed into her with an intensity that nearly shattered her.
The memory of her child-their laughter, their presence, their warmth-now felt like a distant dream, shattered by the cruel reality of her extended coma, her mind reeled, unable to comprehend the magnitude of what she was being told. Without them, a void that seemed insurmountable remained, an insurmountable chasm.
The room blurred as tears filled her eyes, each breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. She tried to find solace in her family's presence, but there was none, she could only mirrored her own, amplifying the depth of her grief. The loss felt like an unbearable weight pressing down on her, leaving her adrift in a sea of sorrow.
she had lost, what had been ripped away from her without warning. The weight of those memories pressed down on her chest, suffocating her, each one a fleeting glimpse of the joy that had once been. She could see his face—his small hands reaching up to her, his laughter filling their home with light, his wide eyes full of innocence and trust. How could it be gone? How could those moments, those precious fragments of her life, just vanish in an instant?
Author's Note:
Thankyou so much guys for loving this story, I appreciate each and every one of you <3
Enjoy reading <3
Good night/morning<3<3<3<3