Sydney's Pov
1247 Words
20 years later,
I have a wedding to attend today.
The woman in the mirror tilted her chin like she belonged to this life.
She wore the Dior dress, champagne gloves, skin kissed by the kind of makeup artists who whispered in french accents and who charged by the minute. Her eyes sparkled and her posture was poised. Her eyes gleamed, her posture poised. She looked exactly like someone people adored, envied, photographed. She looked nothing like the real me.
I smoothed my palms down the front of my gown and watched it shimmer faintly in the morning light pouring through the penthouse window.
I took a breath, grabbing my clutch before heading downstairs. Colleen, my manager, was waiting outside, already flanked by my assistant. The stretch limo gleamed beneath the morning sun, as if even the metal knew it was a grand occasion. I slipped in the back seat and crossed my legs.
As we pulled up to the church, I was enveloped by a sea of camera flashes and shouts.
“Sydney! What do you have to say about the wedding happening today?”
“Can we get a smile? Just one?”
“Are you related to the couple getting married?”
I didn’t answer. I just smiled and turned to leave the flashbulbs behind but I froze mid-way.
A larger-than-life presence. A shift in the air, thick and electric, like walking into a storm.
It could only be HIM.
He moved past me, not even looking in my direction. I could have been a lamppost for all he cared.
Julien Lambert.
The only man in this city with the audacity to act like I didn’t exist and the only one who made my spine go stiff just by existing.
I pretended as though that didn't happen and walked into the cathedral beneath an arch of white roses, a thousand eyes drinking me in. The hush that fell was almost reverent. I floated to my seat, the hem of my gown whispering over marble.
The doors opened and then Sylvia Browne appeared, walking down the aisle like a dream spun in white lace and sunlight.
I couldn’t help but smile.
She was radiant with bright blue eyes, steady steps, lips trembling with joy. She deserved this happiness. She really did and I wondered if I ever would.
Then I remembered the blood, the crying, and the whispered threats in the dark.
No. There was no happiness for someone like me. Not with the kind of past that came back in your nightmares. I shoved the thought down where it belonged. Today wasn’t about me.
The couples shared their vows. Their rings were exchanged and they kissed to a choir of cheers and a glittering spray of flower petals. Happiness looked so effortless from the outside.
The wedding party shifted to the reception hall, buzzing with music and laughter. I waited for the right moment before making my way to the newlyweds.
“Congratulations,” I said warmly.
Sylvia gasped. “Oh my God! Sydney Summers!” she squealed, clutching her wife's arm. “Greg told me she invited someone special but I didn't believe her!”
“I’m honoured to be here,” I said, watching Greg beam beside her.
“She paid you, didn’t she?” Sylvia asked, half-laughing, half in awe.
I gave a small smile. “She did,” I admitted. “A generous amount. But I would’ve come anyway. You two... you shine.”
And when Sylvia kissed Greg, something in me stung as if telling me happiness was a language I’d never learned.
My phone rang, cutting into the moment.
“Excuse me,” I murmured and stepped away, already reaching for the phone.
I slipped into the nearest hallway, but the laughter still clung to the air. It wasn’t enough. I needed a quiet place. I pushed through a door and into the nearest bathroom.
The ringtone stopped when I answered. “Hello?”
There was no answer.
“Hello?”
“Hola, Sofia.”
My body froze.
The voice was low, male, and familiar in the worst way.
My throat closed but I forced a reply. “Wrong number.”
“Don’t lie to me. I know who you are, Sofia Gonzalez.” The voice said harshly.
No. No. No.
No one knew my real name. I made sure. I changed everything from my hair, my name, my life, and even my accent.
My breath hitched. “W - Who is this?”
“You’ve forgotten,” he said softly. “But we remember. The shadows don’t forget their children.”
My vision blurred.
He said it again in Spanish this time. “Los hijos de las sombras siempre regresan a casa.”
Children of the shadows always return home.
My stomach dropped and I grabbed the sink, my manicured nails scraping the porcelain.
I choked out a sob. “You don’t understand. I’m not her anymore…”
“You think they’ll protect you, those white dresses and camera flashes?” he sneered. “You think that fake name you answer will keep you safe?”
“Stop.”
“Kill him.”
“Who?”
“Kill Julien Lambert. Or I tell the world who Sofia Gonzalez really is. And then we come for you. We drag you back to that place. You remember it, don’t you? That room where your twin sister died.”
“I’LL NEVER GO BACK!” I screamed, voice cracking like glass.
“Then do it. Kill him. And you’ll never have to go back.”
Then the line went dead.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The silence was too loud. My hands had turned to ice. I stared into the mirror, and for the first time in years, I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me
My mouth opened but no sound came out.
Sofia.
It was like tasting blood.
I gasped, shaking, every part of me unmoored. I turned on the faucet just to drown the sound of my ragged breaths. Splashed water on my face. Rubbed until the makeup smeared.
This wasn’t happening but it was.
They knew. Someone knew who I was and they wanted blood.
I stumbled out of the hallway, my breath short, heart clanging against my ribs. I needed to leave. I needed to get out of this place when I remembered my purse and phone.
They were still at Sylvia and Greg’s table.
I walked back into the hall, vision blurring with fear and confusion.
And there he was.
Julien Lambert. In the flesh. A dark suit molded to his tall frame, his presence stretching across the room like a shadow. He stood just by the table, wine glass in hand.
His eyes met mine and I froze.
For a second, I swore he could smell it on me — the fear, the past, the rot I thought I'd buried so deep.
I looked away and grabbed my things with shaking hands.
“Leaving already?” Greg called as I passed.
I smiled. “Yeah. I just need some air.”
Outside, the night had deepened. Cooler now. A breeze tugged at my hair.
I pressed the phone to my chest. My heart thudded against it like it wanted out.
They wanted me to kill Julien Lambert and I didn’t even know why. Only if I didn’t, I’d lose everything.
The shadows didn’t forget.
And maybe I hadn’t outrun them after all.
- Writer
