Through the night
1187 Words
The scream shattered the silence.
Aria’s heart lurched as she bolted through the front door of the safehouse, her voice raw with panic. "Lila!"
Knox was already ahead of her, charging into the moonlit woods that bordered the remote estate. The guards' flashlights cut through the darkness, sweeping over tree trunks and underbrush.
“Fan out!” Knox shouted. “She couldn’t have gone far.”
Aria stumbled through the underbrush, her pulse thrumming in her ears, the ground uneven beneath her boots. Every snap of a twig sounded like a gunshot, every rustle of the wind like a whisper of danger she couldn’t see. Branches clawed at her arms, leaving scratches in their wake as if nature itself was trying to hold her back.
She gripped the flashlight tighter, its narrow beam slicing through the darkness in frantic, jagged sweeps. The light trembled with every panicked breath.
“Lila!” she shouted, the name breaking from her throat with raw desperation. “Lila!”
No answer.
Just the chirp of insects, the breeze stirring leaves overhead, and the oppressive silence of the forest closing in.
Knox’s voice cracked through her earpiece, steady but tight with tension. “Anything?”
“Not yet,” she panted, forcing her legs to keep moving. “East ridge is clear. I’m heading toward the creek bed.”
“Copy that. Gabe’s circling south. Stay alert.”
But Aria didn’t care about strategy. She couldn’t afford calm, couldn’t afford to wait for protocol or coordination.
She felt it deep in her gut—something primal and sickening. Lila hadn’t wandered off. She’d been taken.
And Aria was going to find her.
Every rustle of leaves sent her heart leaping. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of images—Lila’s smile, her laughter, her quiet fear when they first arrived at Wilder estate. And now... nothing. Only darkness.
Then—something shifted.
Her beam caught it—a flicker of movement. Just ahead. A shape half-buried by brush near the base of a fallen tree. Pale. Still.
Aria’s breath caught. She didn’t hesitate.
She ran.
“Knox,” she whispered, then louder, voice cracking with urgency, “Knox—I found her. I found Lila.”
The world tunneled into that moment. Nothing else mattered.
Lila was lying in a crumpled heap, her small body too still. One arm twisted unnaturally beneath her, her dress torn and muddied, the white now a violent smear of red and brown. Her face was ghostly pale, lips slightly parted.
Aria dropped to her knees, flashlight rolling from her hand and casting erratic shadows across the ground. Her vision blurred. Her hands trembled as she reached for Lila’s face, cold and clammy beneath her fingertips.
“Please—please,” she whispered, pressing a hand to her sister’s neck. A pulse. Weak, thready. But there.
She’s alive.
But barely.
“Lila, it’s me,” Aria choked, her voice breaking. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m here, baby. You’re safe.”
There was no response. Just a shallow rise and fall of breath. Aria’s mind reeled. She peeled off her jacket, wrapping it around Lila’s shivering frame, trying to keep her warm.
Footsteps thundered behind her.
Knox.
He skidded to a halt, eyes widening at the sight. His expression twisted with horror. “Jesus Christ.”
“She’s breathing,” Aria said quickly, looking up. “But she’s cold—drugged. She needs a hospital. Now.”
Knox didn’t waste a second. He scooped Lila into his arm. Her head lolled against him, her eyelids fluttering once—just barely.
They ran.
Branches whipped past. The car was parked along the edge of the forest, headlights cutting into the night. Gabe had it ready, door already flung open. Knox climbed into the backseat with Lila while Aria jumped in beside him, barking orders.
“Drive—go!”
The tires screamed as they tore down the gravel road.
Lila didn’t move.
Knox cradled her tightly, whispering her name again and again. His voice was a low, steady rhythm, a heartbeat she could cling to.
Aria watched helplessly. The adrenaline had begun to wear off, leaving her raw. Her arms shook. Her stomach was in knots. Every worst-case scenario flashed before her eyes.
“She’s strong,” Knox said quietly, glancing at her. “She’s going to make it.”
But Aria saw the doubt in his eyes.
The hospital was a blur of lights and noise. They burst through the ER entrance, nurses rushing forward. Knox laid Lila on the gurney with agonizing care.
“She's unconscious,” Aria rattled off to the nurse. “Possible head trauma, drugged—unknown substance. Found in the forest. She’s losing blood—”
“We’ve got her,” the nurse said firmly, already checking vitals. “We’ll take it from here.”
Aria tried to follow, heart in her throat, but a nurse stepped in front of her.
“You have to wait here,” she said gently. “We’ll do everything we can.”
Knox pulled Aria back. She turned into him, her fists clenched. She didn’t want to cry. She couldn’t afford to. But her chest felt too tight. Her whole body ached with helpless rage.
“She was right there,” Aria murmured. “If I’d found her five minutes earlier…”
“Don’t,” Knox said quietly. “This isn’t your fault.”
But Aria couldn’t stop the guilt. The terror. The memories.
She remembered Lila’s tiny hands in hers the first time she walked her to school. The way she clung to Aria’s side after their mother died. The way she’d said, “Don’t leave me,” just before Aria stormed out that morning.
The coldness of her skin wouldn’t leave her hands.
She paced the hallway. Sat. Stood. Paced again.
Knox stayed beside her, silent and watchful, but his jaw was clenched, his fists too tight. Aria knew him well enough now to recognize that under all that cold control, he was unraveling too.
Time blurred.
Eventually, the double doors opened, and a doctor stepped out. He looked exhausted. Blood on his gloves. Face solemn.
Aria stood up so fast her chair clattered to the floor.
“Is she okay?” she asked.
The doctor didn’t answer right away. That pause stretched time like an elastic band about to snap.
“She’s alive,” he said finally. “But it’s critical.”
Aria’s knees almost gave out.
“She has a mild concussion, two fractured ribs, and several lacerations—probably from being dragged. There’s evidence of sedatives in her blood, but we haven’t fully identified them yet. We’ve stabilized her, but…”
He glanced down, then back at them, bracing himself.
“But what?” Knox snapped.
The doctor’s eyes were heavy with apology. “She’s not waking up. Her vitals are unstable, and we’re concerned about the reaction to the drugs. It’s touch and go right now.”
Aria couldn’t breathe.
“Say it,” she whispered.
The doctor exhaled slowly. “She might not make it through the night.”
- Writer
