The room around me is so still, it feels like time itself has slowed down. My fingers curl into the fabric of my hospital gown, gripping it as though it could anchor me to this reality, because I'm terrified I'll fall right out of it.
I don't belong here. Not in this room. Not in this body, trapped in a place where the air tastes stale and heavy. I should be somewhere else—anywhere but here.
My mind keeps circling back, though, to that one question I can't shake. How did I get here?
The crackle of static from the TV overhead pulls me from my thoughts. It's faint at first, but then it sharpens, louder. My stomach churns, and a cold sweat forms on the back of my neck. My breath feels shallow, like the air has thickened, and I'm struggling to breathe.
A flicker on the screen.
And then—his voice.
It's like it finds its way into my bones. Low, chilling, controlled. The kind of voice that makes you freeze in place, even when every instinct screams for you to run.
"And so, the story continues…"
No.
My pulse skips, and I try to push the words away, but I can't. I can't stop the sound from wrapping itself around me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but it's too late.
"She thought she had finally found peace," the voice says, calm, almost too calm. "A life to call her own. But peace is a fleeting thing, isn't it? It never lasts. Not for people like her."
My chest tightens, something sour rising in my throat. I clench my fists in my lap, trying to fight the panic bubbling up inside me.
Is he talking about me?
I want to look away, but I can't. My eyes are glued to the screen, despite every part of me telling me I should run. Should hide.
"She married him. The man who loved her more than anything. He whispered promises in the dark, swore he would never let anything happen to her. And for a time, it was beautiful. They were happy."
I feel like I'm drowning. The words are too familiar. They slip through me like knives. Rayan.
His face flashes in my mind. The way he looked at me, his eyes full of love. His touch that made me feel safe, even when the world around us was anything but.
But the voice… it continues, too cruelly.
"But love does not exist in a vacuum," it says, colder now. "It does not shield you from the past that clings to your name like a stain. It does not erase the whispers, the judging eyes, the hands that reach to pull you back into the abyss."
I feel sick. I can't do this. I don't want to hear this.
"His family never accepted her," the voice says, like it's savoring every word. "She was the daughter of a criminal, a stain upon their name. And his mother—oh, his mother made sure she never forgot it. Words laced with venom. Glances filled with disdain. She was an outsider in their world, a ghost haunting the halls of a house that would never be hers."
I swallow hard, the bitterness in my throat thick. Rayan's mother. The woman who never wanted me to be a part of that family. The woman who looked at me like I was nothing more than a shadow.
I wanted to be part of that world so badly. But it was never mine. It was never meant to be mine.
I close my eyes, trying to shut out the rest of the words, but they keep coming. The voice is relentless.
"But he loved her," it murmurs, like it's some kind of twisted consolation. "That should have been enough."
It should have been enough.
I let out a shaky breath. Rayan. He loved me. He still loves me, doesn't he? Even now, I can still feel him with me, in every part of me. His smile. His touch. The way he held me when everything felt like it was falling apart.
"But love does not stop fate," the voice goes on, its tone dark and heavy now. "And fate had other plans."
I can't breathe. My heart is hammering against my ribcage. I know what's coming.
"The father. A gambler. A man who had built an empire only to destroy it with his own hands," the voice says. "The debts grew. The walls closed in. And then, everything was gone. The house. The company. Everything they had."
The air is suffocating now. My chest feels like it's caving in. What happened?
What happened to Rayan's family? To everything we fought for?
"So she did the only thing she could," the voice says, coldly. "She took them to the house that once belonged to her father. The house that now belonged to her. She gave them shelter. She gave them her shares of the company. She gave them everything."
I'm shaking. I didn't even remember that part. But it feels real now, the memories coming back, jagged and broken. My father's company. My father's name. Gone. The last pieces of everything I once knew slipping through my fingers like sand.
"But giving is never enough, is it?" The voice's tone sharpens, a bitter edge to it. "Not when they believe they are owed something greater."
I don't know if I can stand it anymore. The walls feel like they're closing in on me.
The voice lingers, its final words sinking into me, like poison.
"She was beaten," it says, a cruel finality to it. "Until she couldn't move. Until her vision swam. Until she could feel life slipping from her grasp."
I gasp. The air rushes out of me. No. No. Not again.
"No," I whisper, hoarsely, to no one.
"But she wasn't alone, was she?" the voice purrs, its tone almost affectionate. "No. She wasn't."
I can feel my heart racing. My hands shake. The room spins. The walls close in.
"I'm still here, Zoya," the voice says, like a threat. "I never left."
I can't breathe. The panic is overwhelming, the tightness in my chest suffocating.
I want to scream. I want to run.
But then the lights flicker.
And I hear footsteps. My breath catches in my throat, my eyes wide with terror.
"Who… who are you?" I manage, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart thumping violently in my chest.
He steps into the room, and I can't breathe. I can't move.
"I'm someone who knows everything about you, Zoya," the voice from the screen says. "Everything you don't remember."
My body goes numb. I can't process the words. Not now.
"I'm not finished yet."
And the room falls into darkness again.