CHAPTER ONE — THE GIRL IN THE DARK
It was a very quiet night, cold breeze blew across the empty road near the Blackbridge Border. There were no cars, no footsteps, just the sound of wind moving through the trees. It was late.
Then, out of the shadows, a figure appeared.
It was a woman.
She walked slowly, her feet dragging with every step. Her clothes were torn and dirty. Her face was pale, and her skin was covered with cuts and bruises. She looked tired, lost… broken. Her arms were wrapped around herself, like she was trying to stay warm or hold herself together.
She didn't seem to know where she was going, but she didn't stop. She just kept walking down the empty road, one step at a time.
She had no name. No voice. No past.
Not yet.
Across town, in a luxurious modern mansion nestled in Valemort's wealthiest district, the kitchen was alive with mild chaos.
Mason Pierce CEO of Pierce Construction, bachelor of the year three times running, man of impeccable suits and ruthless boardroom decisions was standing in his open concept kitchen, glaring at a frying pan like it had personally wronged him.
He frowned. "How hard can scrambled eggs be?"
Clumsily, he whisked the slightly burnt eggs one more time and reached for toast he'd already over browned. The kitchen smelled of love and effort… and slight panic.
He wasn't used to this flour on his shirt, butter smudged on his cheek but he'd woken early with a mission: to bring a smile to the woman who saved him from falling apart.
A soft laugh from the past ghosted through his mind. He pushed it away, plating the food with trembling hands.
"Don't mess this up, Mason," he muttered, picking up the tray.
Upstairs, in the master bedroom wrapped in white and rose gold tones, Raven Fontaine, a well known fashion designer doing well for herself, stirred beneath the soft sheets.
Her hand searched the empty space beside her. Cold.
"Baby?" she mumbled, eyes still closed.
No answer.
She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes. Her chestnut curls fell in soft waves around her face. As she stretched, the door creaked open.
"Good morning, my love," Mason beamed, pushing the door open with his shoulder and balancing the breakfast tray.
A slow smile tugged at her lips. "Good morning, baby. What's this?"
"A surprise." He set the tray on her lap and leaned in for a kiss, which she welcomed warmly.
She raised an eyebrow, inspecting the food. "Scrambled eggs? And toast?" She took a playful sniff. "Hmm… with a hint of burning ambition."
"Hey!" he laughed, sitting beside her. "Don't disrespect my culinary masterpiece."
"You're adorable," she said, stealing a bite. "Even though you can't cook to save your life."
Mason smirked. "I seem to remember you saying you loved my cooking."
"Oh? When did I say that?"
"Probably during one of our wine nights when your taste buds were too tipsy to care."
She chuckled, then softened. "Thank you, baby. This means a lot."
"No… thank you," Mason replied, his voice softer now. "You saved me, Rae. I don't know where I'd be without you."
Her smile faded a little. She looked down.
"You weren't broken," she whispered. "You were just hurting."
"I was lost," he said. "But you helped me find myself again."
Raven nodded slowly, but something still bothered her.
"Sometimes… it still feels wrong," she said quietly.
Mason's face changed. He looked at her carefully. "Rae…"
"She was my best friend," Raven said. What we have now… it's beautiful. But sometimes, I wonder if she's looking down at us. And if she is, I wonder… is she happy? Or… angry?"
Mason reached out and held her hand.
"She would want us to be happy," he said. "She loved us both. She'd want us to move on."
"I hope you're right," Raven whispered. "I love you, Mason. I just… sometimes I feel guilty."
"I love you more," he said. "And we've waited three years. We're not doing anything wrong."
She leaned on his shoulder. "Do you think she forgives us?"
"I think she's smiling down at us," Mason said. "And I think she wants us to be okay."
Raven didn't answer, but she smiled softly. "I hope so."
Meanwhile, far away, the woman in the dark kept walking.
She had no idea that someone, somewhere, was thinking about her.
She didn't know that a beautiful life had already been built on her memory.
Or that her name would soon be spoken again.
Not in whispers. Not in guilt.
But in shock.
Because she was still alive.
And everything was about to change.