"Hope carried me to the hospital… but fear followed close behind."
—Ava Carter
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Ava's Point of View
It was finally here, the day of my mom's surgery, and one day closer to being chained to Dylan's world. My hands trembled as I pressed them against the vanity, staring at my reflection. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. You'll get through this too… eventually," I whispered to myself, though my voice barely convinced me.
The sudden bang of my bedroom door opening startled me. Avie and Ana rushed in. Avie's face was lit with excitement, too young to understand the weight of today, while Ana's smile trembled at the corners, her eyes already glistening with tears she was trying hard not to shed.
Last night, she'd almost broken me with her questions.
"How did you raise the money for Mom's surgery, Ava?" she'd asked when Avie had gone to bed. Her eyes had been full of fear, hope, and a maturity no child her age should carry. I had smoothed her hair, wishing I could smooth away her worries too.
"That's not for you to think about, Ana. Leave grown-up worries for the grown-ups," I'd said softly. She had nodded, but her next question had nearly undone me.
"Are you okay? Like… really okay, Ava?"
I hadn't been. I wasn't. But I forced a smile. "I'm fine." The lie had lodged in my throat, heavy, but I couldn't let her carry my burdens too.
Now, as Avie jumped on the bed chanting, "We're ready! When are we going to Mom?" I grabbed my bag. "We're leaving now, sweetheart."
At the hospital, Ana's jaw dropped when she saw Mom's new VIP room. Questions flew at me, but before I could think of an answer for her, a nurse called me out to sign the final documents, relief flooding me immediately. When I returned, I stopped at the door.
Inside, Avie was curled against Mom on the bed, Ana sitting close, holding her hand. Mom smiled faintly, and for the first time in weeks, she didn't look tired, she looked happy. That warmth in their faces reminded me why I'd done all this, why I'd sold my freedom. As long as they were safe, I'd endure anything.
When the orderlies rolled Mom away for surgery, we clutched each other's hands, whispering silent prayers. Hours crawled by like years. I couldn't sit still, pacing until Avie tugged at my dress. "Ava, I'm thirsty."
Grateful for the distraction, I nodded. "Okay, I'll be back soon. Ana, you're in charge until then."
I hurried to the cafeteria, bought snacks and drinks, and headed back toward the ward, only to stop when a voice called after me.
"Excuse me."
I turned. A woman in her mid-forties stood there, her eyes sharp, curious. "You were at the gala with Dylan, weren't you?"
The words froze me in place. My throat went dry.
What do I do?
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"Responsibility feels heavier when it comes with innocence clinging to your neck."
—Dylan Reed
Dylan's Point of View
For once, the day was quiet, and I welcomed it. My life had become chaos wrapped in human form, and for reasons I couldn't explain, Ava Carter was beginning to be at the center of it all.
Her mother's surgery must have started. Logically, I didn't need to be there. This was business, not personal. But as I sat at my desk, I couldn't shake the thought, who lets their daughter marry a man who doesn't care about her family?
If this contract was going to hold, I had to play my part.
I texted Ian: 'Heading to the hospital. Be back soon.' His reply came seconds later: 'Okay???' He didn't need an explanation, and I wasn't giving one.
When I arrived, I found the ward quickly. What I didn't expect was to see Avie sobbing, clutching her sister, Ana's arm as if the world was ending. The moment she saw me, she broke free, running into my arms. I bent down and scooped her up, her cries quieting to soft hiccups against my chest.
Ana rose slowly, her eyes red-rimmed, exhaustion carved into her small face. "Are you okay?" I asked gently, running a hand over her hair, a habit from years of doing the same for Elena. She gave a shaky nod, but her lips trembled into a grim smile.
"Where's Ava?" I pressed, my voice calm but urgent.
Her eyes shifted nervously. "She… she left to get a drink for Avie. It's been more than a few minutes. She should've been back by now, but she's not." Her voice cracked. "I tried calling her, but her phone is here… in her bag. I don't know what to do. Last time something like this happened, she came home in a hospital gown."
Tears spilled freely down her cheeks.
My chest tightened. Rage and fear collided in my veins. Ava was gone, again. And deep down, I knew, this had something to do with me. It always did.