Deal
1080 Words
Chapter 2
Yasmine’s POV
The hospital staff worked quickly around Francis, treating him urgently, and within the hour, we were finally cleared to leave.
“A-Are you sure we can go now? I mean, there’s nothing else wrong with him?” I asked, anxiety curling in my voice.
The doctor shook his head with a patient smile. “We’ve run a scan, an x-ray, and every other necessary test. He’s fine.”
I nodded, murmuring a grateful “Thank you” before turning to Francis.
“What happened, Yasmine? I thought I’d died,” he said, his voice raw and disoriented.
I stepped closer, sat on the edge of his bed, and gently took his hand. “We had an accident,” I said softly. “But we survived… by a miracle.”
He stared at me for a long moment before glancing around the hospital room, visibly trying to piece things together.
I could still feel the devil's sneer trailing behind me at the memory—but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t coming back. Not yet.
“Let’s go home, shall we?” Francis said at last.
I nodded and helped him up slowly. He winced, but managed to stand, leaning on me as we made our way out.
The car ride home was quiet. Almost too quiet. Francis stared out the window the entire time, lost in thought. I didn’t push him. We both needed time to process the crash, the near-death—everything. It wasn’t something you could just shake off.
When we pulled into the driveway, something felt… off.
The lights were on.
And the front door was slightly ajar.
“Did you leave it open?” Francis asked, his voice still weak.
I frowned. “No. I locked it before we left.”
I pushed the door open cautiously, tension tightening in my chest. As it creaked wider, the familiar scent of lavender—and something sweet, like baking—wafted out to greet us.
And then I saw her.
Aileen.
My sister stood in the living room like she owned the place, wearing one of my old sweaters, smiling as if we’d just walked in from a weekend getaway.
“Oh my God, Francis!” she gasped.
Before I could react, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him.
I froze.
She hugged him tightly—just a little too tightly. Her arms lingered, and even when he didn't immediately hug her back, he didn’t pull away either. Maybe he was too surprised. Or maybe…
I shook the thought from my head, even as my fingers unconsciously curled into my palm, nails digging into skin.
It was just a hug.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Aileen,” I said, forcing my voice to stay level as I shut the door behind us and hung my keys on the hook.
She finally stepped back from Francis and turned to me with a sheepish smile. “I heard what happened. When you weren’t answering your phone, I panicked.”
“That’s because I was in the hospital,” I said, brushing past her into the kitchen. I needed a second to breathe. I grabbed a cold bottle of water, letting it cool my trembling hands.
Behind me, their voices murmured—a low, comfortable tone. Familiar. Too familiar.
“Get a grip, Yasmine,” I whispered to myself, taking a long sip of water. “Don’t spiral.”
When I returned, they were still talking. Still close. I paused at the doorway, watching their easy dynamic.
“Sis,” Aileen said, noticing me. “You have work tomorrow, right?”
I shook my head. “I was going to take a day off. I can’t leave Francis alone right now.”
“I offered to stay and take care of him,” she chimed in before Francis could speak.
My brows lifted slightly. “Did you?”
“Yes,” she said, stepping forward to take my hands. “I’m free. I didn’t want you missing work.”
For a moment, I saw only warmth in her eyes. Familiar, sisterly. Maybe I really was just overthinking things.
“Thanks,” I said, managing a small smile. “That’s thoughtful of you.”
She gave a little shrug. “It’s nothing. You’ve done so much already. Let me help.”
Francis offered a faint smile too, though he didn’t quite meet my eyes. Something about that unsettled me. Still, I had to remind myself—this was my sister and my husband, two people I trusted the most in the world.
Too much, maybe. Enough to bet my life on the idea that I was imagining things.
"Alright then," I said lightly and turned back toward the kitchen. But the devil’s words resurfaced, curling cold fingers around my mind.
“I kept my end, Yasmine. When the time comes… I’ll come for my due.”
I tried to shake it off, busying myself with the juice in the fridge, but the words stuck, like thorns in my thoughts.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself, but then I heard it—light laughter drifting in from the living room.
Aileen’s laugh.
It had once been familiar, comforting.
Now, it made something sharp twist in my chest.
I closed my eyes. Just exhaustion. Nothing more. I had to stop seeing shadows where there weren’t any.
By the time I walked back in, Aileen was fluffing pillows and Francis had settled onto the couch.
“I’ll make him some soup,” she said brightly.
“That’s nice,” I replied. “But I can do it.”
She waved me off. “You’ve done enough. Just rest.”
That warmth again—the sister I remembered. The one who used to sing me lullabies when I cried at night. I couldn’t let doubt infect that.
But as I passed her to grab my phone, her hand brushed Francis’s shoulder—again, a beat too long. He didn’t seem to notice.
But I did.
Something shifted in my chest. A small, painful click of awareness.
I turned away, jaw clenched.
No. I wouldn’t jump to conclusions. Not yet.
I had bigger things to worry about—starting with keeping Francis safe, and preparing for when the devil came to collect what he was owed.
Because he would come.
And when he did… I had to be ready.
Even if it meant facing truths I wasn't prepared for.
- Writer
