“You should have known I’d survive.” Elena’s voice is weak but determined, her words a defiant murmur against the throbbing pain in her head. Her eyes flutter open, the world spinning in a haze of confusion. She feels disoriented, her body battered, bruised, and sore, but something else courses through her veins—strength. She won’t give up. Not now. Not ever.
She slowly takes in her surroundings. The air smells different here—cleaner, fresher. The walls are bare, the room quiet except for the sound of her shallow breaths. It’s not the luxury of Rafael’s mansion. It’s not the plane that was supposed to be her tomb.
Where am I?
She struggles to sit up, the movement slow, her limbs heavy. Her head throbs, but she ignores the pain, focusing on the unfamiliar room around her. The bed she’s lying in is small but comfortable, the sheets soft against her skin. The room is dimly lit, the only window a small slit of daylight from a far corner. There’s a faint scent of fresh herbs in the air.
“Easy,” a familiar voice says softly, and Elena’s heart skips a beat.
She turns her head, her eyes locking on the person standing in the doorway. Her breath catches in her throat.
“Adrian,” she whispers, barely believing it.
Adrian, someone she thought she’d left behind in another life, stands there, a concerned expression on his face. His dark hair is tousled, and his face bears the traces of time spent in hiding. But his eyes—they’re the same. He looks at her as if he’s seeing a ghost.
“You’re awake.” His voice cracks slightly, and Elena feels a rush of relief mixed with confusion. “I didn’t know if you’d make it.”
She tries to speak but her throat is dry, and all that comes out is a weak cough. Adrian rushes to her side, offering her a glass of water. She takes it gratefully, drinking in slow sips as she gathers her bearings.
“How... how did I get here?” Elena asks, still too weak to sit up fully.
“You didn’t think you’d die, did you?” Adrian replies, his voice filled with a strange mix of amusement and sadness. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a while now. I knew you’d pull through. You’re tougher than you think.”
Elena blinks, trying to process the weight of his words. “You knew?” she whispers, more to herself than to him.
Adrian nods. “I always knew. But you had to go through with it. Get away from him. From Rafael.”
A chill runs down Elena’s spine at the mention of his name. Rafael. The thought of him sends a wave of nausea rushing through her. She can still feel the heat of the fire, the way the plane had crashed, her heart pounding in her chest as she’d fought to escape him. She should’ve died. But somehow... somehow, she survived.
“Why am I here?” Elena asks again, her voice trembling slightly. “Why are you helping me?”
Adrian’s face darkens, and for a moment, Elena thinks he might say something, but then he shakes his head. “Does it matter? What matters is you’re alive. But you need to stay hidden. For now.”
She frowns, trying to sit up straighter, but the dizziness hits again, making her lie back down. “I can’t stay hidden forever. They’ll find me. Rafael—”
Adrian cuts her off. “Rafael believes you’re dead. So does Alexander. No one will be looking for you. At least, not right away.”
Elena’s chest tightens at the mention of Alexander. Her heart aches at the thought of him believing she’s gone. She had made the hardest choice of her life when she walked away from him, hoping she could protect him. But now... now she realizes the cost of that choice.
“I can’t just disappear,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible. “What about Alexander? I need to see him. I need to make things right.”
Adrian places a hand on her shoulder, urging her to stay still. “You can’t. Not yet. You’re too weak. And right now, he’s safe. He’s out of danger, but Rafael—he’s going to keep looking for you. And you need to stay out of his reach.”
Elena swallows hard, the pain of losing everything weighing down on her chest. She can’t do this alone. But what other choice does she have? She knows the truth—if Rafael discovers she’s alive, there’s no telling what he’ll do to her, or to the people she loves.
The next few days pass in a blur of exhaustion and confusion. Elena barely has the energy to keep her eyes open, let alone think straight. But as time drags on, she feels the strain of her situation taking its toll. The illness starts slowly, like a dull ache deep in her bones. She brushes it off at first, thinking it’s just the aftereffects of the crash, the stress, the exhaustion.
But it gets worse.
She wakes up one morning drenched in sweat, her stomach in knots. The dizziness is overwhelming, and she feels nauseous to the point of collapsing. Adrian finds her curled up in bed, her body trembling. His face pales when he sees her.
“You need to see a doctor,” he says, his voice urgent.
But Elena shakes her head, her thoughts a foggy mess. “I’m fine. Just... just give me some time.”
Adrian isn’t convinced. He takes her to a local doctor, someone he trusts. The room feels too small, too suffocating, as Elena sits on the examination table, still weak and trembling. The doctor runs a series of tests, and Elena waits, her heart thumping in her chest.
Finally, the doctor looks at her, his expression unreadable.
“Are you pregnant?” he asks, and for a moment, Elena thinks she’s misheard.
She blinks, feeling a cold wave rush through her. “What?” Her voice is shaky, unsure if she’s even hearing him right.
To be continued….