CHAPTER FIVE
1087 Words
LOST CHILD
MONTHS LATER...
Ravenna woke up in a cold, sterile room, the acrid scent of antiseptic filling her nose. Her body felt heavy, her head pounding as she tried to sit up. Pain shot through her abdomen, forcing her to lie back down.
A nurse entered, clipboard in hand, her face impassive. “You’re awake,” she said curtly.
“Where... am I?” Ravenna croaked, her throat dry.
“You’re in a private clinic,” the nurse replied. “You suffered complications during your transfer here.”
Ravenna blinked in confusion, her mind foggy. Memories of being dragged out of her cell flashed through her mind, the guards’ rough hands gripping her arms. She remembered screaming Carla ’s name, desperate for him to save her, but he hadn’t come.
Then the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Her hand flew to her stomach, trembling. “My baby...”
The nurse’s expression turned carefully blank. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice devoid of warmth. “The baby didn’t survive.”
“No,” Ravenna whispered, shaking her head. Tears filled her eyes as she clutched her stomach, her nails digging into the thin hospital gown. “No, that’s not true. My baby was fine. I felt—”
“The stress of your arrest and detention caused significant trauma,” the nurse interrupted, her tone rehearsed. “There was nothing we could do.”
Ravenna’s cries of anguish echoed through the room, raw and guttural. The nurse left silently, her footsteps fading down the hall. Ravenna curled into herself, sobbing uncontrollably. Her baby, the one thing she had left to hold onto, was gone.
Across town, Carla stared at the fireplace in his father’s study, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His tie was undone, his hair disheveled. He hadn’t slept in days, consumed by guilt and the gnawing feeling that he’d failed Ravenna.
Jane’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Still brooding, Carla ?” she said, stepping into the room.
Carla ’s jaw clenched. “What do you want, Jane?”
“To help you see the truth,” she replied smoothly, sitting on the arm of the chair across from him. “Ravenna isn’t who you think she is.”
Carla shot her a glare. “Don’t start, Jane.”
“I’m serious,” Jane insisted, her voice softening. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but Ravenna was only with you because of what you could give her. She’s not the innocent vineyard girl you fell for.”
“You don’t know anything about her,” Carla snapped.
“Oh, don’t I?” Jane leaned forward, holding out her phone. “Look at this.”
Carla hesitated before taking the device. On the screen was a grainy photo of Ravenna in a dimly lit bar, sitting close to another man. Her hand was on his arm, and they appeared to be laughing.
“What the hell is this?” Carla demanded, his voice rising.
“This was taken two weeks ago,” Jane said, her tone sympathetic. “While you were tearing yourself apart trying to help her, she was out having drinks with someone else. Probably celebrating how well her plan worked.”
“That’s not possible,” Carla muttered, but doubt began to creep into his mind.
“I know it’s hard to accept,” Jane said, placing a hand on his knee. “But Ravenna isn’t who you think she is. She used you, Carla . And now she’s gone.”
Ravenna sat in the clinic room, staring blankly at the wall. Her tears had dried, but the pain in her chest remained, a dull ache that refused to fade. She kept replaying the nurse’s words in her head, searching for cracks in the story.
Her instincts told her something wasn’t right.
When the nurse returned to check her vitals, Ravenna feigned compliance, her mind racing. She needed answers—needed to know if her baby was truly gone.
Later that night, Ravenna crept out of her room, her bare feet silent against the cold tile floor. She moved cautiously, pausing at every corner to listen for footsteps.
At the nurse’s station, she spotted a clipboard with her name on it. She grabbed it, scanning the notes. Her blood ran cold when she read the words: Patient transferred under instruction of Rosangela Carla .
Her stomach twisted as the truth began to take shape. This wasn’t a medical emergency. This was Rosangela’s doing.
A faint cry broke the silence, coming from down the hall. Ravenna froze, her heart pounding. She followed the sound, her legs shaking as she approached a small, dimly lit room.
Inside, she saw a bassinet. And in it, a newborn baby lay swaddled, its tiny face peaceful in sleep.
Tears streamed down Ravenna’s face as she realized the truth: her baby wasn’t dead. Rosangela had stolen her child.
The next morning, Carla sat in his car outside the clinic, his hands gripping the steering wheel. Jane’s words echoed in his mind, but he couldn’t ignore the small voice telling him to fight for Ravenna.
As he reached for the door handle, his phone buzzed.
It was a text from his mother.
Come home. It’s over. Ravenna’s gone.
Carla hesitated, torn between his loyalty to his family and his love for Ravenna. Finally, he started the car and drove away, leaving the clinic behind.
Ravenna returned to her room, her mind racing. She knew she couldn’t stay—Rosangela would stop at nothing to keep her from her child. But she couldn’t fight the Carla s as she was now: weak, powerless, and alone.
She made her escape that night, slipping out of the clinic and disappearing into the shadows.
As she walked away from the life she had known, she made a silent vow:
“I will come back. And I will destroy everything they hold dear.”
Rosangela stood in her study, staring at a photograph of Carla . “You’ll thank me one day,” she murmured, a faint smile on her lips. In her other hand, she held a forged letter, signed with Ravenna’s name:
Carla , I used you. I don’t need you anymore.
Across the city, Ravenna boarded a bus to an unknown destination, her heart hardened by grief and fury. The Carla s had taken everything from her, but she would rise again—and she would make them pay.
- Writer
