Luna Lucky

9

She smiled, and it was warm, almost reassuring. “Don’t mention it. Seriously. Besides, we’ve got a couple of hours ahead of us. Plenty of time to get to know each other.”

Her words should’ve made me more nervous, but instead, they made me feel… lighter. Maybe even hopeful.

As we drove deeper into the night, the conversation slowly began to flow. Lily told me about her family in Pittsburgh, about her siblings and the chaos that always came with their gatherings. She made me laugh—really laugh—for the first time in what felt like forever, and for a while, I almost forgot about the fear gnawing at the edges of my mind.

By the time we pulled into a gas station on the outskirts of a small town, I realized something surprising: I didn’t feel so alone anymore.

The warmth of the car and the steady hum of the engine did little to calm my nerves. I sat stiffly in the passenger seat, clutching my bag like it was a shield. Lily was quiet now, letting the music on the radio fill the void between us. I appreciated the silence—it meant she wasn’t asking questions I wasn’t ready to answer.

The world outside blurred in a wash of headlights and darkness, and despite my best efforts to stay alert, exhaustion tugged at me. I leaned my head against the window, the cool glass grounding me for a moment before my eyelids grew heavy. My grip on the bag loosened as sleep crept over me, pulling me into its grasp.

And then the dreams came.

I was back in Lola’s club, the heavy stench of smoke and alcohol clinging to the air. Her voice cut through the noise, sharp and unyielding.

“Smile. Laugh when they ask. Be polite. Be theirs.”

Her words echoed in my mind like a mantra, a command I couldn’t escape. I stood there in my school uniform, the red wig itchy against my scalp as I forced a grin. Sir Dawson was waiting, his eyes narrowing with satisfaction as he approached.

“Princess,” he greeted, his voice a mix of warmth and menace. “We’re taking a trip. Be ready.”

He took my hand, his grip firm, and led me out of the building. The familiar routine of his driver waiting by the limo felt like a cage tightening around me. My stomach churned as I followed, knowing this wasn’t just another job. It was something worse.

The dream shifted.

I was on the jet now, Sir Dawson’s angry voice filling the cabin as he shouted into his phone. His words were harsh, cutting through me like blades.

“What do you mean he doesn’t want her anymore? Do you have any idea how much she cost?”

His hand clamped down on my arm, his anger spilling over. “Behave,” he hissed, his fingers digging into my skin. “When we get there, you’ll do as he says. End of story.”

I nodded, my heart pounding as fear gripped me. The air around me felt suffocating, the walls of the plane closing in. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go.

The dream shifted again.

I was crouched in the back of the truck, my body pressed against the cold metal as I hid among crates. My heart was racing, my breaths shallow as I listened to the driver’s voice outside.

“Who’s in here?” he shouted, his voice filled with anger.

I scrambled out of the truck, my legs trembling as I hit the ground running. The night air was sharp against my skin, but I didn’t stop. The sound of footsteps and shouts followed me, growing louder with every second. My lungs burned, my legs ached, but I kept going.

Flashing red and blue lights cut through the darkness, and I skidded to a halt. The officer’s voice boomed, sharp and commanding.

“Hands where I can see them!”

I raised my trembling hands, my chest heaving as fear and panic consumed me. His eyes were on me, assessing, but I couldn’t find the words to explain. My throat tightened, the weight of everything crashing down on me.

The dream shifted again, darker and colder.

I was in the orphanage now, the chipped paint on the walls and the smell of mildew filling the air. The other kids stared at me with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, their whispers following me wherever I went. The familiar faces of girls I’d known from Lola’s operation appeared, their voices low and urgent.

“You know she’ll come for you,” one of them said.

I squared my shoulders, my voice steadier than I felt. “Tell her I’m done.”

They exchanged a look before leaving, their silence a promise I didn’t trust. I was alone again, the walls of the orphanage pressing in on me, the shadows of my past clinging to me like a second skin.

“Lucky.”

A voice broke through the haze of the dream, soft but insistent. I blinked awake, my body jolting as I realized I was still in the car. Lily’s hand was on my shoulder, her face etched with concern.

“Hey,” she said gently. “You were talking in your sleep. Are you okay?”

I wiped at my face, realizing it was damp with tears. My chest felt tight, the remnants of the dream still clinging to me like a weight I couldn’t shake.

“Yeah,” I lied, my voice barely audible. “Just… bad dreams.”

Lily studied me for a moment before nodding, her tone soft. “I get it. Bad dreams suck. If you want to talk about it, I’m here. If not, that’s okay too.”

I nodded, unable to find the words to respond. The fear lingered, but her kindness made it feel a little less suffocating. As the car rolled on, I closed my eyes again—not to sleep, but to focus on the small flicker of safety I felt, hoping it would grow into something more.

The car was silent except for the faint sound of the radio playing in the background. I stared out the window, watching the dark highway stretch endlessly ahead. The dream still lingered, the weight of my past pressing against my chest like a stone I couldn’t dislodge. But now, another thought consumed me, burning through the fog of fear and exhaustion: Will.

His face flashed in my mind—the way he’d smiled at me, the softness in his mismatched eyes as he called me his forever and always. I had believed him. I had trusted him. And now, all I could see was that photograph of him standing next to her, his wife.

I clenched my fists in my lap, my nails digging into my palms as anger bubbled beneath the surface. How could he do this to me? Why would he?

Was I just another pawn in his life, another girl to manipulate and discard? Or worse, had he ever cared for me at all? The questions twisted in my mind like barbed wire, each one cutting deeper than the last.

I thought back to the rooftop, the way he’d planned every detail to make me feel special—the candles, the rose petals, the way he danced with me under the stars. It had felt so real, so genuine. But now, it felt like a cruel joke. Had it all been a lie?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Lily’s voice cut through the silence, startling me.

I glanced at her, hesitating. Part of me wanted to brush her off, to keep my thoughts to myself, but another part—the part that was tired of carrying everything alone—wanted to speak.

“It’s… complicated,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

Lily nodded, her expression patient. “Complicated usually is. Want to try me?”

I hesitated again, the words tangled in my throat. But then, they spilled out all at once. “Have you ever thought you knew someone, like really knew them, only to find out they were hiding a whole other life?”

Her brows furrowed slightly, but she didn’t interrupt. She just let me keep going.

“I thought he loved me,” I continued, my voice trembling. “I thought… I don’t know. I thought he was my future. And then today, this woman shows up claiming to be his wife. His wife, Lily. She had proof—a photo of them together. And now, I can’t stop wondering if everything he ever said to me was a lie.”

Lily let out a low whistle, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. “That’s… wow. That’s a lot to unpack.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “It feels like my whole world just fell apart. I don’t even know who he is anymore.”

She was quiet for a moment, her gaze focused on the road ahead. “Look,” she said finally, her tone careful. “I’m not gonna pretend I know the guy or what was going through his head. But sometimes, people lie not because they don’t care, but because they’re too scared to be honest. Doesn’t mean it’s okay, but it doesn’t always mean they didn’t care.”

Her words settled over me like a strange mix of comfort and pain. “So, what? He lied to protect me?”

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “Or maybe he’s just a jerk. Either way, you don’t owe him anything. You deserve answers, sure, but you also deserve to put yourself first. Whatever his reasons were, they don’t excuse the hurt he caused you.”

I stared at her, surprised by how easily she seemed to understand. “You sound like you’ve been through this before.”

“Not exactly,” she admitted, her smile wry. “But I’ve had my fair share of people letting me down. You learn to stop carrying their guilt and start focusing on what you need.”

Her words struck something deep inside me. I’d spent so much of my life trying to survive, trying to please people like Lola and Sir Dawson, trying to escape my past. And now, here I was again—wrapped up in someone else’s lies, questioning my worth because of them.

Maybe Lily was right. Maybe it was time to stop carrying other people’s burdens.

The thought was freeing, but it was also terrifying. Because if I stopped thinking about Will, about why he did what he did, I’d have to face the truth: that I’d been hurt again, and this time, it was by someone I’d chosen to trust.