The Luna They Buried

The Beginning Of The End

ZELDA’s POV

“No!”

I screamed as my eyes flew open, panting and drenched in sweat. It has become part of my life since my eighteenth birthday.

The faceless figure from my dream still lingered in my mind as I fought to steady my breathing.

Just as the shock began to fade, a splitting headache slammed into me. It was then I realized I wasn't in my room. My mind skipped a beat. I looked down, beneath the covers I was naked and my clothes were scattered on the floor.

I pressed my hands to my head, it felt like it was about to crack open, and then memories started bleeding back in. The bar. The club. The drink. And him.

The man.

The mind-blowing s*x, the way his lips felt against my skin, the way I arched beneath his touch, how I had pulled him closer and begged for— no, no, no, no. I covered my mouth immediately.

“What have I done?” I whispered.

I turned to the other side of the bed. He was gone, but a note sat in his place. “Didn’t want to wake you,” the note read. Tucked inside it was a bundle of cash and a sleek black card.

I blinked back the tears threatening to fall. So he had seen me as a prostiitute. Of course he did.

What else was he supposed to think after the way I practically threw myself at him?

I bit down hard on my lip, gathered my belongings, got dressed, and cast one final glance around the room. My eyes landed on the bright red stain on the sheets.

A painful reminder of what I had given away. Then I stormed out.

Even with the disappointment and anger boiling inside me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me.

At first I thought I was imagining it or overthinking. But from the elevator to the reception desk and all the way out of the hotel entrance, I kept catching glimpses of the same man through reflective surfaces. He wore a black hoodie and dark sunglasses.

I picked up my pace toward the bus station, my heart hammering. I pulled out my phone and called Mia. It rang and rang but no answer. I glanced over my shoulder, he was still there, almost closing in on me and this time he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Before I knew it, I was flagging down a taxi and rushing inside, clutching my bag tightly against my chest as if it could somehow protect me.

Thankfully, the driver sped off immediately and I watched the figure shrink into the distance through the rear window, checking and rechecking until I was sure the road behind me was clear.

“Hey Zee, you okay, I was starting to get worried.” Mia’s voice finally crackled over the phone.

My heart was still pounding but I forced my voice to stay steady. “Yeah, I’m fine, just a hangover,” I said and dropped the call. I knew Mia. She would blow the whole thing into a crisis before I even finished explaining, and honestly, maybe I had imagined him. Lack of sleep could do strange things to a person.

The moment I got back to my apartment, I filled the bathtub and soaked myself in hot water, trying to wash away every memory of the previous night.

Including him.

Once the alcohol was out of my system, reality came crashing back hard. Rent was almost due. No job too, courtesy of Luke.

Every rejection email that filled my inbox felt like a fresh reminder that walking away from that company wasn’t really a good idea. And my savings were bleeding out slowly.

Weeks passed in a blur of job applications and rejection emails. Just when I was beginning to lose hope, an interview invitation landed in my inbox.

I nearly screamed my apartment down, for the first time in weeks I felt hopeful.

I spent days preparing. When the morning finally arrived, I dressed carefully in my tightly fitted ironed gown, styled my hair and stepped out with a desperate prayer that this would be the break I needed.

The reception area was packed with applicants, but I didn’t let it discourage me.

If anything, it made me more determined.

But a few minutes later, a strange dizziness crept over me. I moved closer to the air conditioning unit thinking it was the heat, but the room kept tilting anyway. I tried to steady myself and then everything went black.

When I opened my eyes again, the sharp smell of antiseptic hit me first, and the whiteness of the ceiling made me squint. It took only a second to understand where I was.

A hospital.

Before I could piece together what had happened, a nurse walked in wearing a smile that felt almost too cheerful for how I was feeling.

“Miss Zelda Bennett?” she said.

“Yes, good morning,” I replied.

“How are you feeling?”

I ignored the question entirely. “How did I get here?” I had an interview to get back to. I was supposed to be in that room right now, nailing every question and walking out with a job offer. Not lying here with an IV drip taped to my hand.

“Some people brought you in after you fainted,” she explained. “Don’t worry, I’ve already contacted your emergency contact. She should be here shortly. But first, the doctor would like to see you.”

Oh no.

Not Aunt Mara.

She would either worry herself sick or spend the next hour trying to convince me to move back into the group home.

Even worse, she might find out I had quit my job.

“I’m fine, really,” I said quickly. “I think I just skipped breakfast. I was reading all night to prepare and completely forgot to eat, and then with the heat outside I just—”

She gave me a small, patient smile that said she had heard that explanation before. “Don’t worry. We’ll have you out of here soon.” Then she was gone.

A few minutes later I was led to the doctor’s office. The middle-aged man sat behind his desk, reviewing something on his computer. I greeted him and took the seat across from his desk.

He glanced at me, then back at his screen. “Miss Zelda Bennett?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay.” He continued studying the screen.

My heart began to pound.

I had never really been sick before.

When the other kids at the group home got fevers, allergies, stomach bugs, and everything else imaginable, I was always unaffected.

Some of them used to joke that I was a witch.

“Hmm.” He adjusted his glasses. “Overall you’re healthy. Your stress levels are slightly elevated, though that’s something we’ll need to monitor, especially for the baby. I’ll write a few prescriptions and…”

The rest of his words faded away.

Baby?

Did he just say baby?

“Did you just say, baby?”