Fractures in Gold
651 Words
Lina POV
The first thing I felt was heat.
Not fire—warmth. A hand brushing hair from my forehead, another gripping mine tightly.
“Lina,” a soft voice whispered. “Baby, you’re okay. You’re safe.”
I blinked hard against the sunlight streaming through the window. My ceiling. My room.
I was home.
I inhaled shakily, the scent of lavender and lemon balm anchoring me to the moment.
My mother sat at the edge of the bed, her lips pinched tight, eyes glassy. My father hovered nearby, his broad frame blocking part of the window. Both looked older somehow—drawn with worry.
“You gave us a scare,” Dad said, his voice gentle. “You fell from the cliff. You’re lucky someone caught you when they did.”
The memory slammed into me like a freight train. The fall. The scream. The shove.
“It was Laura,” I rasped, voice hoarse. “She pushed me.”
Mom’s mouth parted in shock. “Lina—”
“I swear it,” I said, trying to sit up, wincing as a bolt of pain lanced through my side. “She waited until I was vulnerable. She shoved me. I didn’t slip.”
Dad exchanged a glance with Mom, his expression tightening.
“Sweetheart,” Mom said slowly, like she was trying to talk me off a ledge, “Laura said she saw you stumble. She was devastated. She ran for help—”
“She shoved me!” I snapped, louder this time.
Their eyes widened.
“She did it on purpose,” I continued, heart racing. “Dylan was too focused on humiliating me to notice. But when I fell—he turned to her. I saw it. I saw him yell at her.”
“You must be confused,” Dad said, gently but firmly. “You were in shock. You hit your head—”
“I didn’t hit my head!” I said. “I remember everything. The pressure. The failure. The way she smirked before she touched me.”
Mom reached for my hand again. “Lina, honey… Laura loves you.”
I barked a laugh. “No, she doesn’t. She never has.”
They went quiet.
My heart ached in the silence. Not just from the fall. From the betrayal that was slowly swallowing me whole.
And then—just to make it worse—the door opened.
And in walked the picture-perfect lie.
Laura entered first, her auburn hair twisted in a delicate braid over one shoulder, dressed in pale gold and smiling softly. Dylan followed, looking grave but regal, his hand on the small of her back.
The room chilled instantly.
“Lina,” Laura said, rushing forward with carefully manufactured concern. “You’re awake! Thank the gods.”
I stiffened.
“Don’t,” I said, voice sharp.
She blinked, her expression wounded. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t pretend.”
Dylan stepped forward then, jaw tight. “Lina, now’s not the time—”
“No?” I said, eyes locked on him. “Because it seems like you made time to comfort my sister when I nearly died.”
He didn’t answer.
Laura’s expression turned solemn, just for show. “I’m just glad you’re safe. When I saw you fall, I—I couldn’t move. I was in shock. I blamed myself for not reaching you in time.”
I looked her straight in the eye. “You’re right to blame yourself.”
She blinked.
The silence stretched too long.
Dylan’s voice broke it. “We’ll give her space,” he said quietly, taking Laura’s arm and steering her back toward the door.
But before they left, she looked over her shoulder—right at me.
Something smug flickered in her eyes.
And in that moment, I realized something bone-deep:
They weren’t even trying to hide it anymore.
- Writer
