I woke up to chaos.
Alarms shrieked sharply, and relentlessly drilled straight into my skull. My chest burned. Pressure—one, two, three—hard compressions forcing air into lungs that had forgotten how to work.
"Clear!"
The shock slammed through me. My body arched and pains detonated everywhere.
Again.
I gasped, a broken sound tearing from my throat. Shapes swam into focus—white coats, masked faces, lights far too bright.
"She's back," a familiar male voice said. Dr. Harlan. "Pulse stabilizing. Good. She's here now."
Hands pulled away. I coughed violently, my throat was raw like sandpaper.
"You can't come in yet," he said firmly to someone outside. "She's not stable."
Not stable.
The words echoed in my head as I tried to sit up. But my arms felt heavy, and useless.
A nurse rushed to my side—young, kind-eyed. "No, miss. Easy. Lie back."
She pressed me down gently, adjusted the pillows, and brushed my hair from my face.
Slowly, the room sharpened into focus: a hospital bed, tubes taped to my arms, monitors beeping steadily, and gray morning light slipping through half-drawn curtains.
"Where…" I croaked.
"You're safe," she said softly. "St. Mary's Hospital. You've been here a while."
"Where's Victor?" The name slipped out before I could stop it.
She hesitated, just long enough for my chest to tighten. "Your family is outside. They've been waiting."
Family.
I turned my head toward the glass door, every movement slow and aching.
Mum stood there first—tears streaming, one hand clamped over her mouth. Elena beside her, flawless even now, silver blouse crisp, eyes red like she'd been crying. And Victor.
My Victor.
He stood tall but rumpled, like he hadn't changed clothes in days. His gaze locked onto mine.
Alive.
Here.
Relief crashed through me so hard my eyes burned. I smiled weakly, as hot tears streamed down my cheek.
He smiled back slightly. Reassuring.
But distant.
Something about his eyes felt wrong.
The doctor gestured, and they came in. Mum rushed to the bed, clutching my hand as if afraid I'd vanish again.
"Oh, my baby," she sobbed. "What happened to you? What's wrong?"
Elena followed, resting a steady hand on Mum's shoulder. "We were so scared, Lys."
Victor hung back near the door, with his hands tucked into his pockets.
I stared at him.
The last thing I remembered was his voice—hoarse, panicked—calling for help. Then the dream. Or the nightmare. Him and Elena, twisted together in intimacy and betrayal, tangled so tightly that I couldn't breathe.
Dream… or poison?
Thallium.
The word surfaced uninvited. Hallucinations. Paranoia. Madness.
"How long…?" I whispered.
"Nine days," Elena said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking my hand. "You've been here nine days."
Nine days of coma, poison and delusion.
What was real at this point?
Victor stepped closer and brushed his fingers lightly across my forehead. The touch was careful, almost clinical.
"Get well, Lys," he said quietly.
Formal.
Kind but distant.
Nothing like the man in my memories.
Guilt flickered in his eyes or pity. I couldn't tell which scared me more.
"You need therapy," Mum said softly. "Real help. Whatever's going on… this was bad."
Elena nodded in agreement. "We'll get you better."
Like she cared.
Like she hadn't poisoned me.
Or had she?
They spoke with the doctors— they went on and on about rest, observation, family support. I nodded when expected, murmured yes when prompted.
Eventually they left kisses pressed to my forehead, and promised to return.
Cynthia had been here earlier, Mum said. She'd come back tomorrow.
The door closed.
Silence settled over the room.
I stared at the ceiling, tracing invisible cracks, trying to stitch reality back together.
What was imagined?
What was stolen from me?
And then i heard it.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway slowly.
The door opened, and someone stepped in.
Tall. Dark hair neatly combed. Sharp brown eyes, unreadable. A tailored suit that didn't belong in a hospital room.
He closed the door behind him.
I watched as he walked toward the bed, every step measured.
"Victor?" My voice cracked.
He stopped.
And that was when I knew.
This wasn't Victor.
My heart slammed against my ribs as realization hit hard and cold.
Who was this man?.