Before dawn, the bleeding started up again.
This time, it didn't happen all at once. It came in quietly, like a threat that didn't need to be known. I woke up with a dull pain in my stomach that made my body tense up.
Don't move.
I lay still and looked at the ceiling of my small motel room. The curtains were closed, but some weak light got through the edges. In the quiet, my breathing sounded too loud.
The pain got worse when I moved slowly and sat up.
I slid my legs off the bed and stood up, then slowly walked to the bathroom. Every step felt meticulously planned, as if a misstep could shatter something irreparable.
The light turned on.
For a second, everything seemed fine.
Then I looked down.
Red.
It spreads across the white tile in a bright and clear way.
My knees weakened.
"No," I said quietly. "No, no—please..."
I grabbed the edge of the sink as panic set in, and my knuckles turned white. My reflection looked back at me, pale, with empty eyes and a scared look.
It wasn't the same as last night.
This was terrible.
I had left my phone on the counter. I grabbed it with shaking hands and called the emergency number again. I could barely hear the ringing before my vision started to fade.
"I'm bleeding," I muttered hoarsely when someone responded. "I am pregnant. Please—
My last words turned into gasps.
The ambulance got there right away.
Too fast.
As the paramedics pushed me out of the hotel room and past a night clerk who was looking at me with barely hidden interest, that idea came to me. I saw a dark sedan parked across the street as they put me in the truck.
The engine was running slowly.
The windows had a tint on them.
I told myself that I was dreaming things.
This happened because of stress. It was fear.
The doors slammed shut, making it impossible to see.
The paramedic talked steadily and calmly inside the ambulance. "Try to stay calm. We're taking you to a private clinic."
"Not the Drake Hospital," I said right away.
He gave me a look. "Miss?"
"Please," I begged, holding on to the edge of the stretcher. "Not there."
He thought about it for a moment and then nodded. "Okay."
Relief came quickly, but it was weak and short-lived.
The clinic was smaller and quieter. It was the kind of place that didn't receive much media attention.
A doctor I didn't know looked at me cautiously, and her face grew hard as she looked over the ultrasound.
She said, "You are still bleeding." "This pregnancy is very unstable."
I shut my eyes.
"You can't stay in the city," she said, her voice getting lower. "You are under too much stress, which is bad for you. Whatever is going on in your life is bad for you and the baby.
I chuckled quietly. "Will it help if I go?"
"Yes," she said right away. "Distance is important."
Far away.
From Lucien.
From the name Drake.
I was from a city that had already deemed me worthless.
The doctor said, "Someone called you." She was looking at her tablet. "Wanting to know how you are."
My heart hit my ribs hard.
"Who?" I asked.
She stopped. "A man. He didn't say his name. He said he was "family."
Family.
I quickly figured out who it wasn't.
Lucien Drake had never asked me about my situation.
I swallowed. "Did you say anything to him?"
"No," she said. "We don't give out information about patients."
I felt both relief and fear at the same time.
There was someone watching.
When I finally got out that afternoon, I was told to rest and travel. I went outside and froze.
There was a dark car parked across the street.
This time, I was sure.
The driver sat behind the wheel, and the darkness hid his face. The engine started up slowly and steadily as I looked at the car, as if to tell me it wasn't a coincidence.
My heart raced.
I quickly turned around and waved down a taxi.
"Airport!" I yelled as soon as I walked in. "Now."
The driver looked in the mirror at me. "Which one?"
"Any," I said. "Just drive."
I saw the car behind me in my rearview mirror as we drove away.
It came next.
Not really close. Not aggressively.
The distance was just right.
Fear made my fingers tighten around my coat.
This was not just talk anymore.
This was spying.
I walked through the crowd at the airport with my head down and kept my pace steady. Every face looked like it could be a threat. Every shadow seemed to last too long.
The person at the counter smiled politely. "Where are you going?"
I stopped.
If I mentioned a city where Lucien worked, it would be easy for anyone to locate him. If I pick a place I know well, it will be predictable.
"Change it," I said suddenly. "Somewhere quiet." Somewhere small.
She hit the keys on the keyboard. "There's a forty-minute drive to a town on the coast. There aren't many people on board.
"I'll take it."
My phone vibrated in my hand when I paid.
Another number you don't know.
You can run. Nothing will be different.
I couldn't breathe.
I typed quickly.
Who are you?
The answer came almost right away.
Someone who understands the struggles you're facing is the answer.
My hands shook as I deleted the chat.
That was all.
In one moment that I couldn't change, the choice I had been thinking about for days became clear.
I couldn't stay.
I could not be found.
And I couldn't afford to be kind.
I sat by the window on the plane, and the cool glass brushed against my forehead as the engines roared.
The city below me was full of glass and steel, ambition and violence.
Somewhere in that maze, Lucien Drake was doing what he always does.
I touched my stomach.
"I won't let them touch you," I said in a low voice. "Whatever."
The city got smaller as the jet took off.
I didn't look back.
Lucien Drake looked at the papers on his desk two hours later in a quiet office with a view of the city.
His assistant was tense and stood across from him.
The assistant said, "She checked out of the Drake house." "The hospital records reflect repeated admissions. "She has been bleeding."
Lucien's jaws tightened.
"And now?" he asked.
"She got on a plane this afternoon. The destination is unknown."
Lucien slowly leaned back, his fingers crossed.
"Find her," he said.
"Yes, sir."
"And quietly," Lucien said, his eyes hardening. "I don't want this to come back to me."
He stopped for a moment before saying something that shocked even him.
"Check to see if she's still alive."
I got out of a taxi in a small coastal town hours away with only one suitcase.
The air smelled like rain and salt.
No cameras are there.
No one I know.
There are no shadows of Drake.
I checked into a small apartment with a different name.
That night, when I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, my fear turned to sleep.
I'd run.
I had chosen to live.
There was no way to go back.