Chapter 3
1273 Words
Alina sat on the edge of the velvet chaise, staring at her hands as if they belonged to someone else. They were steady, calm and completely disconnected from the hurricane inside her chest.
Her mother used to say that when something terrible happens, your body protects you by slowing everything down.
That must be what this was because she could still hear it.
Fiona’s voice calling her an i***t, comparing her to her mother and warning her to cooperate if she didn’t want to 'end up the same way.'
'End up the same way'.
Her mother’s death had been ruled an accident.
A car crash on a rainy night.
...reckless driving, impulsive decision...just like Alina.
Her stomach twisted violently.
“No,” she whispered to the empty room. “No, no, no…”
It couldn’t mean that.
It couldn’t.
The walls felt closer now. The heavy curtains, the locked balcony doors, the quiet hallway outside. Even the wedding music drifting faintly from downstairs sounded distant, unreal, like it belonged to another life.
Her life.
The life she had this morning: blue hair, purple dress, marriage.
Now it felt like she had been dressed for her own funeral.
A knock rattled the door.
Alina flinched so hard she nearly fell off the chaise.
“Alina?” a familiar voice called. “If you’re hiding from the stylist again, I swear—”
The door creaked open before she could answer.
Ria stepped inside and froze.
Alina must have looked insane.
Blue hair half-curled, makeup slightly smudged, wedding dress still hanging in the corner untouched, eyes wide and unfocused.
“Okay,” Ria said slowly, closing the door behind her. “Why do you look like you just discovered taxes?”
Alina blinked.
And then something inside her cracked.
She launched herself forward and grabbed Ria’s arms.
“They’re going to kill me.”
Ria stared at her.
“…You’ve been drinking.”
“No!”
“Are you high again? Because if you took something before your own wedding—”
“I was kidn*pped!” Alina hissed. “Locked in a room. Fiona, Brielle, Liam—they’re planning something. I heard them. They want me gone.”
Ria gently pried Alina’s fingers off her arms.
“Okay,” she said carefully, the way one speaks to a toddler holding a knife. “Let’s breathe. One, you were not kidn*pped. You’re in your own house. Two, you’re getting married in two hours. Three, this feels like that time you thought the math teacher was a spy.”
“He was suspicious!”
“He had allergies.”
Alina paced the room wildly.
“You don’t understand! I heard them talking. I heard Brielle and Liam. They said once we’re married everything transfers.Then they’ll make it look like an accident. Fiona admitted it. She threatened me. She said my mother was stupid and that she paid the price!”
The words tumbled out messy and frantic.
Ria’s expression shifted slightly.
“Slow down,” she said. “Start from the beginning.”
So Alina did.
She told her about the kiss. The whispers. The plan. Fiona’s fake shock. The insult about her mother. Liam saying plans had changed.
She expected Ria to interrupt.
To roll her eyes.
To say she was spiraling.
But Ria didn’t.
By the time Alina finished, the room felt heavier.
“You’re serious,” Ria said quietly.
“I’m not crazy.”
Ria searched her face carefully.
Alina might be impulsive, dramatic and occasionally unhinged in aesthetic choice but she wasn’t delusional.
“You swear you heard them clearly?” Ria asked.
“Yes.”
“You’re not exaggerating?”
“No.”
Ria inhaled slowly.
“Okay,” she said at last.
Alina blinked. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Ria repeated. “Then we have a problem.”
A wave of relief crashed into Alina so hard her knees nearly gave out.
“You believe me?”
“I think you’re reckless,” Ria muttered. “I think you make terrible decisions. I think blue hair and a purple wedding dress is a crime against society.”
Alina almost smiled.
“But you don’t lie like that. And you don’t imagine things this detailed.” Ria’s jaw tightened. “If they’re planning something, we need to get you out.”
The word out echoed like freedom.
“How?” Alina whispered.
Ria scanned the room quickly. “Are the doors locked?”
“Yes. Balcony too.”
“Phones?”
Alina froze.
Her phone was gone.
“They took it.”
Ria cursed under her breath. “Okay, fine. We improvise.”
Downstairs, music swelled as more guests arrived.
The house was full.
Full meant witnesses.
Witnesses meant safety.
“We can’t go through the main staircase,” Ria said. “Too obvious. Is there another exit from this wing?”
“There’s a service stairwell near the old storage room.”
“Good.”
A sudden thought hit Alina.
“They’ll realize I’m gone.”
“Then we move fast.”
Ria grabbed Alina’s wrist.
“Take off the blue hair extensions.”
“I dyed it.”
“…Of course you did.”
They moved quickly. Alina stripped off her half-done curls, wiping at her makeup. Ria pulled a long coat from the closet and shoved it into her arms.
“Change.”
“Into what?”
“Anything that doesn’t scream runaway bride.”
Alina’s pulse raced, but something else stirred beneath the fear.
Clarity.
For the first time all day, her chaos felt useful.
“They think I’m stupid,” she murmured.
“Good,” Ria said sharply. “Let them.”
—
Down the hall, in a different bedroom glowing with soft gold light, Brielle admired her reflection.
Her diamond wedding ring caught the light perfectly.
She tilted her hand, smiling at the brilliance.
“After tonight,” she whispered to herself, “everything will finally be mine.”
She wanted to see Alina’s face when she noticed the ring.
...wanted to see the confusion.
The slow heartbreak.
It would be delicious.
Still smiling, Brielle walked toward Alina’s room.
She didn’t bother knocking.
She pushed the door open casually—
And froze.
The chaise was empty, the vanity chair overturned and the window curtains slightly disturbed.
“Alina?” she called lightly.
No answer.
Her smile faded.
She stepped inside fully now.
The wedding dress still hung untouched but Alina was gone.
Brielle’s heartbeat spiked.
She checked the bathroom.
Empty.
Closet.
Empty.
The air in the room felt wrong.
Cold.
Her fingers tightened around the diamond on her hand.
She turned sharply and strode down the hallway, heels clicking faster than usual.
“Mother,” she called as she entered Fiona’s study. “She’s not in her room.”
Fiona didn’t look up at first.
“What do you mean, not in her room?”
“She’s gone.”
That made Fiona look up.
Silence fell heavy between them.
A moment later, Liam entered from the opposite corridor, adjusting his cuffs.
“What’s wrong?” he asked calmly.
Brielle’s voice was tight now.
“She’s missing.”
For the first time that day, something flickered across Liam’s face.
It wasn't panic, not fear but annoyance.
“Search the house,” he said quietly. “Lock the gates.”
Fiona rose slowly from her chair.
“She must not leave this property.”
Outside, faintly, wedding music continued to play.
Inside the service stairwell, Alina ran.
And for the first time in her life—
She wasn’t running toward love.
She was running to survive.
- Writer
