Before the Heart Knew

Chapter 5: The Call That Changed Everything

It was nearly 6 p.m. when Amelia Wilson closed her laptop and stretched on the old but cozy couch in her shared apartment. The scent of jasmine tea lingered in the air, mingling with faint hints of graphite and paper — the tools of her everyday world. Her sketchbook lay open beside her, its latest concept unfinished: a minimalist design for a lifestyle brand’s international launch. One of the biggest clients her agency had ever landed.

And she was leading it. Not bad for someone only twenty-four.

“Still alive out there?” Jessica’s voice floated from the kitchen.

“Barely,” Lia replied, smiling faintly.

Jessica poked her head around the corner, a towel slung over one shoulder. “You’ve been working for five hours straight. Come eat before I report you to HR.”

Lia rolled her eyes. “I am HR.”

“Then I’m going over your head. To the cat we don’t have.”

They laughed — the easy, familiar laughter that filled the small apartment with warmth and history.

Lia’s life was simple. Purposeful. Quiet in all the ways that made her feel safe. She’d grown up without much, so peace had become her luxury. Books, creativity, her sketchpad, and the people she trusted — that was enough.

Or… it had been.

Until her phone buzzed with an unknown number.

She almost didn’t pick up. But something — a tiny, inexplicable tug — made her thumb slide across the screen.

“Hello?”

A pause. Then a voice — soft, composed, and almost… hesitant.

“Is this Amelia Wilson?”

“Yes,” Lia answered cautiously, her heart beginning to thud.

“My name is Isabel. I know this may sound strange, but I’m reaching out on behalf of someone who… well, someone who saw you. Just once. And hasn’t been able to forget.”

Lia blinked. “I’m sorry… what?”

“He’s in the hospital now. Coma. It’s been six weeks. We’ve tried everything… and we believe you might be able to help.”

A silence stretched between them — the kind that couldn’t be filled with reason.

This had to be a scam. Right?

But Isabel’s voice didn’t carry the rehearsed slickness Lia had learned to spot growing up around people who always wanted something.

It carried hope. And something else.

Desperation.

“I don’t understand,” Lia said quietly.

“You don’t have to. Not right away. Just… please. Come meet me. I’ll explain everything in person.”

Jessica had walked over by now, eyebrows raised in concern.

Lia met her best friend’s gaze, then looked back at her phone.

“…Okay,” she said. “Where?”