Amelia pov
The monitor's beep was the first sound I heard when I woke up. It was sharp, insistent, and irritating. My body felt like it had been hit by a truck, and my head throbbed with every beat of my heart. Closing my eyes toward the cold, antiseptic white of the hospital room, I made sure I tried to build where I was and how I got in there.
Moments of episodic memory suddenly returned as flashes—the wet pavement, the screech of the motorcycle, the sound of glass breaking apart. Then, darkness. The accident.
I tried to sit up but it brought a sharp pain to my ribs. The nurse rushed in, her face kind but strained with concern. “You’re awake. Take it easy, dear. You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”
“How long have I been here? My voice cracked, unfamiliar even to myself.
“Three days. You were lucky—nothing too serious, but you needed rest.”
Three days. But the words reverberated in my ear each time, insecurity itched at the idea of the background. I reached for my cell off the headstand, my fingers not making much of a dent in unlocking the android. Notifications flooded in—texts, missed calls, social media alerts.
Hope you’re feeling better. You’re going to need your strength for what’s coming.
Is this true? A link to a headline that appeared on the gossip blogs: Carter Heir Marries Step Sister in a Big Wedding.
The air rushed out of my lungs. My fingers trembled as I tapped on the link. There they were, each and every one of them-smiling-just like the perfect couple- Ethan, my fiancé and Isabella, my step-sister, arm-in-arm by the arch of simply pristine white roses.
Ethan Carter is married to Isabella Carter in a secret ceremony, joining sides of the powerful Carter family clans together.
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.
They didn't even wait for you to leave the hospital," the nurse's voice was soft and caring. I looked up at her, realizing too late that I’d spoken my thoughts out loud.
My chest tightened. Ethan and I were supposed to get married in two months. The invitations had already been sent out. How could this happen? How could he do this to me?
I turned to the nurse, desperate for answers. Was anyone visiting me while I was unconscious? Did Ethan…” My voice cracked. “Did Ethan come?”
The nurse stopped, the look on her face reflecting both empathy and awkwardness. “No, dear. No one from your family came by. I’m sorry.”
I choked an awful laugh, a sound harsh and cruel in my voice. Of course, he didn’t come. Why would he, when he was busy marrying her?
I can't believe this, I mumbled, not really to the nurse, but to myself. “He promised me forever. He said he loved me.”
The nurse reclined in the left chair with a gentle but firm expression. People can also disclose their deepest emotional states least positively. But you’re stronger than this, Amelia. You’ll get through it.”
“I don’t feel strong,” I admitted, my voice shaking. “I feel… broken.”
The nurse reached out, her hand warm against mine. “It’s okay to feel that way now, but you’ll find your strength again. Just give yourself time.”
I tore the bedclothes from my hips and grabbed for the IV needle, lodged deep in the press of my palm, desperate to get out of this sham. The nurse noticed my frantic movements and rushed forward, her hands firm but gentle as she stopped me.
“Amelia, please don’t do that,” she said soothingly. “You’re not ready to leave yet.”
I can't be here," I choked, and tears streamed down my face. “I can’t sit here while my entire life falls apart.
The nurse bent over and sat beside me, her gaze filled with empathy. “I know you’re hurting, but you need to take care of yourself first. You've seen enough already, and if you escape now, you might be in even more danger," etc.
Her talk seemed to fall on completely deaf ears in the cloud of emotion over my head. I shook my head and tried to break off the IV again.
Amelia, no. Now her voice was more forceful, and before I could stop her, a stinging pain shot down my arm. It kicked in instantly and the world swam before my eyes.
---
If I woke up again, the room was still lit up. Under the gentle, soft red glow of the setting sun). My head was leaden, and my body was numb from the dope, but the pressure of the anger and terror in my chest was so agonizing that it made it more painful than anything before.
I slowly sat up, uncaring of the protest of my ribs, and threw my legs out from under the edge of the bed. It is believed that I have heard the nurse say something, but it is impossible that I can sit through it at the present moment.
I put on my clothes as quickly as possible, folding neatly on the chair, then got out of the room. The hallway was empty; the soft "buzz" of the fluorescent lights was my only companion.
At each step, the fight was my aching body; I went on, a responsibility to exit. At the hospital's entrance, the fresh evening air slapped itself against my face like a shock.
Roads were clogged, car alarms and echoes of other people permeated the space around me. I got onto the sidewalk, my head reeling with dizziness as I searched for the way out. I didn’t want to go back to the mansion, where Isabella and Eleanor would be reveling in their victory. But I couldn’t face anyone else either—not yet.
I jumped out into the street ahead of me, my mind too busy to pay attention to the street itself.
“Hey! Watch out!” someone shouted.
A car horn blast cut me short from my thoughts and I turned just in time to watch the car lights rush toward me at top speed.
My heart stopped.