CHAPTER2
839 Words
Ariella’s POV
I moved silently through the house, my heart pounding with every cautious step. Fear gripped my skin as I scanned each corner, peeking into every room with shaky hands.
The silence was loud—too loud.
After several minutes of searching, there was still no sign of anyone. But when I reached the kitchen, my breath hitched. The back door stood slightly ajar, creaking softly in the wind.
Whoever it was… they had gotten out through there.
I wasted no time. I called the security service and demanded immediate installation of CCTV cameras in every corner of the house. Every entry point was to be reinforced, and the broken doors were to be fixed before nightfall.
I couldn’t take chances. Not anymore.
Tomorrow, I had to leave—early. I had no room for distractions.
I packed my bag for New York, my suitcase filled with a few outfits and a bundle of nerves. My mind refused to rest, spiraling with thoughts that kept circling back to the break-in, to Daniel’s sudden distance, to the secret surgery awaiting me.
Sleep? It never came. Not even for a second.
The first light of dawn spilled across the windows as I quietly rolled my suitcase to the door. The house was silent again—but this time, it was different.
This silence felt like a warning.
I took one last look around, locked the newly fixed door behind me, and stepped into the cab waiting for me.
My surgery awaited—and with it, the chance to take my life back.
********
The New York hospital Was filled with antiseptic smells which makes my stomach gnarl,the fluorescent lights harsh against my closed eyes as I sat in Dr. Patel office, a wiry woman with kind eyes, she sits across from me, her lips moving clearly.
“Ariella, the procedure’s promising,”Dr. Patel said as she greeted me and handed me a tablet. It displayed everything I needed to know about the procedure: the risks, the expectations, and the chance—the small but real chance—that I might hear and speak again.
It felt like a dream too dangerous to hope for. I had lived in silence for so long that sound itself had become a memory. But now, I was here. I was ready.
I nod, my throat tight. “I want this,” I sign, my hands firm. “For me. For him.” She smiles, but her eyes hold caution. “Rest now. Surgery’s tomorrow.”
I woke in a fog, my senses flickering to life like a radio struggling for signal. The sterile hospital light blurred above me. Then—sounds.
A rhythmic beep.
Distant voices.
The wail of a siren far off in the city.
It was overwhelming. Too much, too soon. But it was also… miraculous.
For the first time in years, the silence was gone.
I parted my lips, testing this new, fragile voice.
“…Hello.”
It came out rough and broken, but it was mine.
The nurse beamed, eyes glassy with emotion. Dr. Patel appeared soon after, checking the monitors, inspecting the bandage near my ear.
“It’s working,” he said gently. “But take it slow, Ariella. Your body—and your heart—need time.”
I nodded, unable to form more words yet. Everything felt wobbly—my balance, my breath, even my identity.
As I practiced small sounds in recovery, I couldn’t stop thinking of Daniel. Of his arms, his voice, his eyes soft with warmth when he looked at me. I imagined saying his name. Hearing him say mine.
But my phone was dead. Maybe that was a gift. I wasn’t ready—not yet—to trust this trembling voice over a call.
Later, once the doctors cleared me and handed over a list of prescriptions, I was discharged. I made my way back to the hotel, the hum of New York rushing into my ears like a tide—car horns, chatter, laughter on the street.
It was beautiful. And cruel.
Back in my room, I plugged in my phone, trying to breathe through the weight pressing down on my chest. I should rest. But curiosity—and something colder, sharper—pulled my hand to the screen.
The security app blinked and it has downloaded all footage from days ago
I tapped it, heart hammering.
The bedroom feed loaded. The timestamp showed it was recorded while I was still lying unconscious in a hospital bed.
There he was.
Daniel.
Home early from the business trip in Chicago.
My throat closed.
“Why is he back so early, did his boss cancelled trip half way?” I thought to myself self.
He moved from the living room to the bedroom,
He was sat on our bed, blond hair tousled, grin cocky—too relaxed. Then…a lady appeared and joined him on the bed.
I couldn’t breathe,my phone fell from my hand and hit the floor.
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
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