BEHIND THE MASK

Reborn In Blood.

I opened my eyes harshly, only to shut them back due to the pain the bright surroundings caused.

Fuck. Where was I?

Making another attempt, I slowly forced my eyes open.

White.

All over the place.

A room....what room was this?

It was too bright and way too clean. It was hard to recognize.

Even the air was far from fresh. It felt so...... artificial? I had no idea, but what I did know was, it reeked of antiseptic and money.

One minute, I was trying to figure out where the hell I was, and in the next minute, air got knocked out of my lungs, and I was gasping, choking on the plastic tube that was down my throat.

Holy..... A mechanical hiss answered me automatically, pumping oxygen into a pair of lungs that didn't even want to obey. I moved slightly, and I felt something tug at my wrist.

A needle... was that an IV line?

Panic slammed into place and I trashed.

"Get it out of me, "I croaked, my voice sounding like a gravel scraping steel.

"Get. It. Out. Of me!" My hands fumbled as I caught the tubing and then yanked.

Blood spilled, and then pain followed.

Alarms went off, leaving me in a state of confusion.

What was going on?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

"MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT STOP!! GET... GET IT OUT. MAKE IT—"

The sounds of multiple footsteps rang loudly in my ears.

One nurse. Then two.... A pair of hands grabbed mine, trying to restrain me. I kicked and nearly toppled the side tray.

Someone screamed out orders. The chaos went on for what seemed like forever before....

"Steven, "someone unfamiliar called.

The only thing that wasn't sending me into a panicked state.

I stopped moving and looked up. A man was standing at the doorway. He was tall, had silver hair that was slicked back. He gave off old money vibes.

A three-piece gray suit that'd been pressed so sharp, I was sure the lapels could slice through flesh.

He kept his pale blue eyes on me, watching me like he'd known me all his life.

"Enough with the tantrums. You're somewhere safe now," he spoke smoothly.

Did he sound reassuring? Yes.

But did I believe him? Absolutely freaking not.

I didn't even want to hear a word from him. I didn't want to eat or drink anything. I didn't want to sleep either.

What I did want was answers.

The man introduced himself. His name was Thaddeus Quinn. The legal counsel to the Hale estate.

He sat in a leather chair across from me, his legs crossed and hands neatly folded. I didn't like the way he sat. It felt as though he was about to strike a negotiation with me. One that I wouldn't like.

"So?"I urged him to go on with the story he said he'd tell me. About my "birth".

"You were born as Sinclair Everett Hale," he said. "Elias Hale's and Isobel Castillon's son. Heir of the Hale fortune."

I stared at him like he had just grown two horns. "Uh.... that's not my name."

"Not anymore," he agreed with me as if I just said something about the weather.

Could he just take this a bit seriously?

"But it was, once. Until you died."

Okay, what? Now I looked at him like he had a loose screw upstairs.

"And you're sure you don't have the wrong person? Tens of people in Avalon bear that surname for goodness' sake."

"Mhmm," he hummed with a nod. "Understandable. Err, Carey?"

He nodded at a nurse who was on standby, and she stepped forward, placing a leather-bound folder on my bedside table.

Inside, it was a yellowed newspaper clipping.

Headline: HALE HEIR AND WIFE PRESUMED DEAD IN CRASH — INFANT SON CONFIRMED MISSING.

I reached for it, picking it up with shaky hands.

A photo was attached to it. A couple. With the man having a jawline similar to mine and the woman having eyes similar to mine.

Then the baby..... Curls, deep dimples and was wrapped in a blue blanket.

"And that... was you," Quinn spoke quietly.

I was speechless. Stunned.

My lungs suddenly went tight, my brain swam, and I had this sensation of falling even when I wasn't moving. It was as if the floor got ripped out from underneath my bed, and no one had informed gravity yet.

I put down the clipping slowly.

"And why exactly am I to believe any of this bullshit?"I asked in a whisper.

"I don't need to convince you. You know deep down that it's true."

I'd told Mr Quinn to give me time to think about the whole thing, and he agreed. Made sure to check my health status to make sure I was stable before leaving. And me?

I was left to drown in my thoughts. I tried to piece things up, but nothing made sense.

Out of frustration — and partly because of the sedatives— I dozed off.

And the flashbacks didn't ask for permission before coming at me in the form of nightmares.

Ear piercing screams....

Broken glass......

Folding metal....

Smoke. Lots of it.

Burning leather...

And then....hands unbuckling me. Hands that didn't belong to her, lifting me from all the blood.

Stained blanket....the hushed voice of a stranger.

The stranger had taken me away from the terror that almost consumed me alongside them.

Grandma. She'd been the one who saved me.

She rescued me from the fire.

I woke up with a jolt, not having tears to spill, and having zero energy to do anything, sleeping included.

I waited while staring at the ceiling, and soon, morning came. Quinn came back, and this time he was holding a silver box.

"I thought this might help you a bit."

I took it from him to see what was inside. DNA test results, a locket, and a birth certificate.

I froze. The DNA proved that I was a Hale member. And the locket..... I'd seen it every single day of my life. It used to be in Granny's room. But I thought it was random junk that she just took a liking to.

But today, I opened it. It was Isobel, laughing and cradling me.

I swallowed.

The blank spaces were finally starting to make sense.

And the reality made me feel so lost.

Quinn remained silent while I tried putting myself together.

He waited patiently.

"Why now?"I picked one out of the million questions swimming in my head.

"Why did you reach out to me now?"

"Thalia, your Grandma, refused to respond to any of our investigations. She preferred to live off-grid and refused any form of contact whatsoever. It wasn't until she died and your recent hospitalization that our biometric systems flagged you down."

Oh...

"And so? The world literally forgot my existence?"

"What, no?" he replied with a straight face. "They just hid you from it."

So, in conclusion, the Hale family wanted me back.

I was their miracle recovery. The lost heir that they'd found. A whole turnaround for the legacy of the Hales.

They wanted to spread the word immediately. They wanted me to give a speech. Turn me into a redemption arc that they could monetize.

But there was no way I was going to be anyone's sob story.

And I think Quinn saw it because he didn't push it.

"Listen, you shouldn't feel forced. We'll go at your pace."

"I just.....Can I get a bit more time to think about this?"

"Sure, Steven. I'll be back by morning," he gave me a polite nod before leaving.

Once again, I was left to battle with my inner demons.

I stood by the hospital mirror, my reflection staring back at me. It barely looked human.

More than half of my face was wrapped in gauze, and one eye peeked through it, looking bloodshot, ringed in purple and barely open.

It was ugly enough to make me turn away, but I stepped a bit closer, studying the stitches that Alicia gave me personally.

A permanent scar.

I stepped back, making a silent decision.

★

"I'll take it. My position as heir," I told Quinn when he showed up the next morning.

He nodded in satisfaction. "I'm glad you made this decision. I'll begin with the paperwork..."

"I have a condition," I interrupted, and his head inclined.

"Understandable. It's only natural. What is it?"

"I won't be identified as Steven Hale," I spoke steadily.

"Wait," he paused. "You wish to change your name?"

"I don't, "I stood up slowly despite my shaky joints.

"I wish to bury it."

He listened.

"I'll be known as Sinclair Hale. The one who's supposed to have been erased from existence. Let 'em choke on it."

He grinned after a beat.

"Well, welcome home, Master Sinclair.”