Chapter 1: "Who Are You?"
The beeping wouldn't stop.
Seraphina Chen opened her eyes. White ceiling. White walls. Too bright. She blinked. Once. Twice. Her lashes felt heavy. Sticky.
A machine screamed beside her head. Beep. Beep. Beep. Fast. Too fast.
She tried to turn her head. Pain shot through her skull. She stopped. Breathed. The air tasted like metal and medicine.
"—can't be right, check again—"
"—three days, the husband's been calling every—"
Voices. Far away. Close. She couldn't tell.
A woman in scrubs leaned over her. Blue eyes. Blonde hair pulled back. Smiling too bright. The smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Mrs. Vance?" The nurse's hand touched Sera's wrist. Fingers on her pulse. "Can you hear me? You're at St. Catherine's Medical Center. You've been in a car accident."
Sera's throat burned. Dry. She swallowed. Tasted copper. "Not—" She stopped. Tried again. "Not Mrs. anything."
The nurse's smile slipped. Her fingers tightened on Sera's wrist. Just for a second. Then loosened. She glanced at the chart in her other hand. Back to Sera.
"Some memory confusion is normal after head trauma." The nurse's voice went softer. Slower. Like speaking to a child. "Do you know what year it is?"
"2021." Sera's voice came stronger now. She knew this. She knew her life. "I graduated in May. Design school. Rhode Island School of Design." She tried to sit up. Pain flashed white behind her eyes. She gasped. Lay back. The pillow was too flat. Too cold. "My mother. She starts chemo this week. Tuesday. I need to—" She stopped. A sudden cold in her chest. Terrible. "Is she here? Did she—"
The nurse's face crumpled. Her eyes went wet. She looked away. At the door.
The door opened.
Sera turned her head. Too fast. The room spun. Colors blurred. White. Beige. Black. She blinked. Focused.
A man stood in the doorway.
He filled the frame. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair cut sharp against his neck. His jaw was a straight line. Hard. His mouth didn't curve. Had maybe forgotten how.
He wore a black suit. Silk tie. Deep blue. The kind of suit that cost more than her education. More than her mother's house.
His eyes found hers.
Dark. Brown, maybe. Or black. Something flickered there. Relief? No. Colder. Like seeing a broken thing you needed but didn't want.
Behind him, two small shapes moved. Fast.
"Mommy!"
They burst past his legs. Small hands. Small feet. They hit her bed. Hard. The mattress bounced.
A boy. A girl.
Dark hair. Same face, almost. Pale skin. Big eyes. Four years old, maybe five. The girl clutched a stuffed rabbit in one fist. Gray. Worn. One ear flopped down. The boy's face was wet. Tears on his cheeks. But no sound. No crying noise. Just wet tracks and wide eyes.
They knew her.
The girl crawled up the bed. Knees digging into Sera's legs. Small weight. Heavy with need. She pressed her face to Sera's neck. Breathed fast. Hot breath on Sera's skin. Smelled like strawberry shampoo. Like child-sweat. Like fear.
Sera's hands came up. Automatic. To push them away. Stop this. These small strangers touching her. Needing her.
But the boy's fingers found her right hand. Slipped through her fingers. Held on. Tight. His palm was damp. Warm. Terrified.
Sera froze. Her hands hung in the air. Half-raised. Half-ready to defend.
"Elise." The man's voice came from the doorway. Low. Controlled. Flat. "Noah. Step back."
The girl shook her head. Hard. Her hair scraped Sera's chin. Rough. Soft. The boy didn't move. Just stared at Sera. His eyes were the man's eyes. Dark. Nothing like hers. Nothing like her mother's.
Sera looked up.
The man had moved closer. Two steps. Silent. His shoes were black leather. Shined. No scuffs. He stopped at the foot of her bed. His hands hung at his sides. Fingers curled. Uncurled. Curled again.
"Who are you?" Sera asked.
The man's face slipped. One second. Maybe less. Something wild showed through. Wounded. Hungry. Then gone. Replaced by stone.
"Julian," he said. "Julian Vance."
The name meant nothing. Sera searched her memory. Her real memory. College parties. Late nights in the studio. Her mother's kitchen. The hospital where they said the chemo might work.
No Julian. No Vance. No children.
"Should I know that?" she asked.
Silence. The beeping machine filled it. Fast. Too fast.
The nurse backed toward the door. Her shoes squeaked on the tile. One squeak. Two. Then gone.
The children went still. Elise stopped breathing against Sera's neck. Held her breath. Listened. Noah's fingers tightened on Sera's hand. Small nails pressing.
They sensed it. Adult tension. Weather changing.
Julian Vance took one step. Closer. She smelled him. Cedar. Something darker. Smoke? Expensive. His cologne cost more than her monthly rent.
He reached out. Slow. Like approaching something feral. Something that might bite.
His fingers touched the back of her left hand. Light. Barely there. Warm. Dry.
Sera jerked away.
Pain sparked through her skull. White behind her eyes. She didn't care. She pulled her hand under the blanket. Hid it. Shook her head. Once. Hard.
"Don't touch me."
Julian's hand hung in the air. Between them. Fingers slightly curled. Empty. He let it fall. To his side. His jaw tightened. A muscle jumped in his temple. Small movement. Fast. Controlled.
"I don't know you," Sera said. Her voice shook. She hated the shake. Hated the weakness. "I don't know these children. I don't know why you're looking at me like I—" She stopped. Breathed. "Like I did something wrong. I've never seen you before. In my life."
Julian's eyes held hers. Something moved in their depths. Deep. Dark. Regret? Maybe. Calculation? Probably. She couldn't tell. Didn't know him enough to read him.
"I'm your husband," he said.
The machine beeped faster. Beepbeepbeepbeep. Sera heard her own breathing. Too loud. Too fast. Shallow. Her chest hurt.
She looked down.
Her left hand. Hidden under the blanket. She pulled it out. Slow. Like it wasn't hers.
A ring. Platinum. Cold. A diamond caught the light. Big. Too big. Flashing with every beep of the machine. It could pay for her mother's treatment. Three times over. Four.
She didn't remember the store. The question. The yes.
She didn't remember him.
"You're lying," she whispered.
Julian's eyes didn't leave her face. Something softened there. Just at the edges. Just enough to hurt.
"I wish I were," he said. His voice dropped. Lower. Almost gentle. Almost human. "It would be simpler."
The girl—Elise—lifted her head from Sera's shoulder. Slow. Small face crumpled. Confused. Breaking. Her lower lip trembled. Her fingers found Sera's hospital gown. Clutched the fabric. White cotton. Wrinkled it.
"Mommy?" Her voice was small. Smaller than before. Cracking. "Why are you scared of Daddy?"
Sera looked at the girl. At her dark eyes. Her rabbit. Her need.
She looked at the boy. Noah. Silent. Still holding her hand. Still not crying out loud.
She looked at the man. Julian. Her husband. The stranger who said he owned her in the language of law and metal.
She opened her mouth to answer.
Remembered nothing.