CHAPTER THREE
1398 Words
Lana slammed the door to her room and collapsed against it, her chest heaving with sobs. The silence in her room was deafening, and the weight of her father's ultimatum pressed in from all sides. Her limbs felt numb, her throat dry, her eyes stinging with tears that wouldn’t stop falling.
She glanced around the room—her sanctuary for the last couple of years—walls covered in pinned-up anatomy posters, her stethoscope hung carefully by her bedside, textbooks splayed open on the desk. Every inch screamed of a girl with dreams—dreams that had now been ripped from her grasp by her Father.
Then, her eyes darted to her phone.
Her trembling hands held it up against her face, unlocking it in seconds. The last message she sent to Stefano glared back at her. "Same plan tonight right? I will be there by 11pm behind the old Chapel. We leave together. No looking back."
There was still no reply. No call. Nothing.
But, even then, her memory was flooded —Stefano’s hands on hers as they stood outside the little diner downtown, the city lights glowing above him. He had promised her. Sworn it.
"We’ll leave, Lana. Just say the word. The second you’re ready, I’ll be there. We’ll run far enough that no one can touch us. I belong with you."
And then, right before they parted that evening, she asked what that message he received was about.
She had seen the shift in his expression, the twitch in his jaw. He said it was “nothing urgent,” kissed her forehead, and walked away. That was the last time she heard his voice. It's been two days now.
Her heart thudded as she stared down at the screen expectantly. Still no reply.
But she had to try. She couldn’t let this be the end.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard.
“I’m going there now, Stefano. If you ever meant any of what you said, please… just be there.”
She threw on a hoodie, grabbed her small duffel from under the bed, the one she packed two nights ago with all her savings and the few belongings she couldn’t bear to leave behind—and slipped out through her bedroom window. Her heart pounded against her ribcage like a war drum.
But she didn’t care if she was caught now, she already knew what her fate would be if she didn't risk it.
The Arkansas air was colder than usual that night.
Lana stood near the old chapel by the edge of campus, the place she and Stefano had chosen.
She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, her eyes darting down the winding road every few minutes, hoping to see the familiar glint of Stefano’s blue Ford focus.
But the road remained empty, Silent.
Her mind continued tormenting her with doubts. Two days of nothing. No texts. No calls. She’d even messaged him again that afternoon, begging for a sign.
“Are we still doing this? Please answer me. I’m scared.”
Delivered.
Not read.
She bit her lower lip, trying to keep the tears from falling. He had asked her to trust him. He had sworn he’d show. And Lana—desperate for anything but the cage her father and Philip Rodgers were constructing for her—had clung to that promise like it was the only oxygen left in the universe.
Because, for her, it was.
Midnight passed.
Then 1 a.m.
The chapel's bell struck once, echoing in the quiet, rural night.
And then, there were headlights.
She straightened up, heart racing, every part of her praying it was him.
The car pulled up, but it wasn’t the Ford Focus, it was a dark sedan.
A tall man who looked like he was in his late twenties stepped out, wearing a leather jacket and jeans. His face was vaguely familiar. Lana squinted in the dim light.
“Lana?” the man called.
Her body tensed. “Who are you?”
He lifted his hands in peace. “Name’s Ben. Ben Jacobs. I’m a… friend of Stefano’s.”
Lana’s eyes narrowed. “You were in that picture. On his i********:. At that soccer charity dinner.”
Ben gave a small smile. “Guilty. Yeah, we did such events. I was supposed to meet you both here.”
Lana’s heart thudded. “Where’s Stefano?”
Ben’s face flickered with confusion. “He’s not here?”
She shook her head, voice cracking. “I’ve been waiting. For hours.”
Ben pulled out his phone, double-checking something. “He told me to meet him here around 1a.m. He said he might be late, but he will eventually come. Said he had something important with you.”
Lana’s hands trembled. “Why didn’t he come?”
Ben didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box wrapped in velvet.
“He wanted you to have this,” Ben said, offering it to her.
She hesitated before taking it. Her fingers brushed the box’s edge as she opened it, revealing a silver watch with a sapphire face and intricate engravings along the sides.
It was both stunning and old.
“That’s been in Stefano’s family for generations,” Ben explained. “His grandfather wore it when he built their first home in America, after coming from Italy and struggling to settle. If he ever gave it to someone, it’d be someone special, someone he saw a future with.”
Lana blinked fast. “Why would he give this to me and where is he? If what you are saying is true, then he is meant to be here with me, right now, keeping to his promise.” A single tear slipped down Lana’s cheek.
Ben shrugged. “Honestly, I am as surprised as you are that he is not here,” Ben said, but Lana caught the way he avoided her eyes for a second too long.
“He also said to tell you he’s sorry,” Ben added, more quietly now. “But he didn’t explain what it was for, so I am guessing it is for running late.”
Lana stared at the watch in her palm. She remembered Stefano brushing his fingers over the watch absentmindedly during one of their coffee dates, saying it was the only thing his father ever left him. The watch was warm from being in Ben’s pocket. Heavy. Real. Yet none of it made sense.
If he cared, really cared… Why wasn’t he here?
Why send a messenger?
Why go silent for two days?
Ben rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I should get going. I have a flight in the morning. Stefano’s in a bit of a… complicated situation right now. But Lana—if he gave you this, it wasn’t nothing.”
Lana nodded numbly, not knowing what to say.
Ben paused a moment longer, like he wanted to say more, then turned and walked back to his car.
Moments later, the taillights disappeared into the night, leaving her alone again.
She dropped onto the chapel steps, her legs no longer able to hold her.
The watch sat in her lap, gleaming under the moonlight. Her fingers traced the edge as she whispered, “Where are you, Stefano?”
But no answer came. It was just bleak silence.
And then fear that she had misunderstood everything—that maybe Stefano had walked away started growing on her.
Maybe her father and Philip had gotten to him. Or worse… maybe Stefano had simply chosen not to fight.
The thought broke her completely.
Then, her phone buzzed in her coat pocket.
She jerked, clinging to the hope that it was finally Stefano.
But It wasn’t.
It was her father.
Mr. Tate: We leave for Los Angeles at 8 a.m. sharp. You have one last chance to comply. If you’re not on that plane, you are no longer my daughter.
Her entire world spun.
It was happening.
They were dragging her back. Back to Philip. Back to the marriage. The cage.
And she had no one to help her, to fight for her. Stefano hadn’t come. She had made it to the door which led her away from misery, but it was shut by the very man who promised her freedom.
Stefano had abandoned her.
And she was completely alone.
- Writer
