Silence hung over the bedroom, carrying the scent of old timber and steeped herbs. Sarah sat rigid under the weight of her grandmother's words, her mind racing through the timeline of her wedding night.
"He told the guards that you had been found."
The sentence echoed like a death knell in her mind. If her grandmother had been trapped in the clutches of Luca's men for hours, and Sarah had been clawing her way up a muddy ravine half-dead from a cliff plunge, then who had Luca found? Who had stepped into the light and claimed her name?
"Sarah, you're looking at me with such dark eyes," her grandmother whispered, her frail hand tightening around Sarah's bruised fingers. "What is it?"
Sarah lowered her gaze, her expression turning cold. The pieces of the puzzle were shifting, revealing something far more sinister than a simple botched escape.
"Luca wasn't just trying to stop a runaway bride, Nana," Sarah said, her voice dropping into a quiet purr. "He was playing a different game. The woman he 'found'... the woman they took to the hospital under heavy guard... she isn't an illusion. She's real."
Her grandmother frowned. "What do you mean she's real? Sarah, there is no one else."
"There is." Sarah's jaw clenched as she remembered the headlights from the storm, the white luxury car swerving to miss her, the terrifying glimpse of the driver's face just before the vehicle shattered the guardrail and went over. "A woman drove off that cliff because of me. A woman who wears my face. Luca didn't catch me, Nana. He caught her."
A cold dread settled over the small room. Sarah stood, ignoring the sharp flare of pain in her side, and walked to the small dresser. Luca believed his wife was under his watch, recovering in a hospital bed. He had no idea the real Sarah was still alive.
She was coming for him.
Far away, inside the clinical white walls of a highly secured hospital wing, the storm of that fateful night had finally broken its banks.
For Elena, the world had shrunk to the size of a sterile cage. The moment her eyes snapped open, the finality of the locked door hit her like a physical blow. Her chest tightened, her lungs refusing to take in the sharp, chemical air of the room.
Locked. Trapped.
A wave of panic surged through her veins, overriding every logical thought. She tried to launch herself upward, to throw her body against the door, but a brutal restriction yanked her back down. Thick leather restraints were locked around her wrists, pinning her to the bed.
Her eyes widened in horror. A low, ragged, broken sound tore from her throat — not a scream, not words, but the silent, desperate cry of a mute girl trapped in her worst nightmare.
"Sarah, it's alright! Please, try to stay calm!" a nurse shouted, rushing to the bedside as the heart monitor began to beep in a frantic, erratic rhythm.
But Elena couldn't hear her. Her breathing had degenerated into rapid, uneven gasps. Her fingers pulled and twisted against the leather straps with a manic strength. The more she fought, the tighter the restraints bit into her skin, echoing the confinement of her past.
Her gaze darted around the room: the locked door, the narrow, unreachable window, the humming medical machinery. The memory of being locked away before rushed back like an inescapable phantom.
Two more nurses burst into the room, alerted by the alarm. "What happened?"
"She woke up again! She's completely panicking!" the first nurse said, pinning Elena's shoulders down.
Elena shook her head from side to side, tears spilling over her cheeks as she tried to form words she couldn't speak. Her hands moved in quick, uncoordinated gestures beneath the straps, trying to signal them, trying to beg for her freedom.
"It's okay," a nurse insisted, misreading the gestures. "No one is hurting you here, Sarah. You're safe."
The wrong name acted like a spark on gasoline. Elena jerked her arm with sudden force, her body thrashing against the bed frame. Her flailing hand struck a heavy metal tray on the bedside table.
CRASH.
The tray flipped, sending medical instruments and glass vials slamming against the concrete floor. Shards scattered across the room, glittering under the fluorescent lights. The nurses jumped back, shouting for order.
"Sarah!"
But Elena didn't see the glass. Her terror-stricken eyes were fixed on the door. Every click of the lock pushed her deeper into panic. She could no longer tell the hospital from the prison in her memories.
To everyone else, she was a hysterical patient. Only Elena knew she was trying to escape a nightmare that had found her again.