2025-07-11 15:56:22
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Temporary.
SINCLAIR’S POVThe first thing I remember is the sound.A low, persistent beeping. Not sharp, not soft—steady. Like it belonged to me. Like it was tethered to the thudding in my chest.I opened my eyes to white. White walls, white sheets, white ceiling. The world blurred, then sharpened, then blurred again. The air smelled of antiseptic, too clean to be real.And her.Veronica.She was perched in the chair beside my bed, her long legs crossed, her hair perfectly styled as if she’d stepped out of a magazine shoot. She had that look again—poised, polished, like a woman who knew exactly where she belonged.Her hands were folded delicately in her lap. But when my eyes met hers, she gasped like I’d handed her the sun.“Sinclair,” she breathed, springing forward to grab my hand. “Oh my God. You’re awake.”Her skin was warm. Too warm.I blinked. My throat was sandpaper, but the word scraped its way out. “Where… am I?”“The hospital..” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’ve been
I Believed It.
APRIL’S POVThe room was cold.A single lamp swung above me, casting a harsh circle of light that made everything else feel like shadow. I sat at the steel table, my hands free now but still burning from where the cuffs had dug into my wrists.The detectives entered. Same faces as before, but harder this time. Less patient. Less curious. More determined to nail me to a wall I didn’t belong on.“Miss Dawn,” Detective Reeves began, dropping a file onto the table with a thud. “We’ve been at this dance before, haven’t we? But this time, we’re not here for theatrics. We’re here for answers.”His partner, Detective Harper, leaned against the wall, arms folded. Her eyes scanned me like she was stripping me bare.I swallowed, forcing my spine straight. “Then ask your questions.”Reeves flipped the file open. “Sinclair Hale’s accident. We’ve reviewed every angle, every witness statement, every scrap of evidence. And yet—” he snapped the file shut again, leaning in close, “—it all points back t
Make Her Pay.
APRIL’S POVI didn’t even wait for the nurse to finish her sentence before I tried to run.Run straight for the ICU doors. Straight for him.My heart was pounding, my throat burning with the desperate need to see Sinclair, to touch him, to remind him I was here.But the guards moved faster. Their arms crossed like iron gates, blocking me, their voices stern. “You can’t go in, Miss Dawn. Orders.”Orders. From who? I didn’t need to ask.Veronica.My fists slammed against the guards’ arms, useless and wild. “He’s awake! You don’t understand—I need to see him!”“Miss Dawn, please—calm down. You’re not allowed inside.”The words blurred in my ears until I could barely hear myself screaming back. My chest heaved like it was splitting open.And then the nurse—her face pale with hesitation—pulled me aside.“April,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “Listen to me… Sinclair—he woke up, yes, but…”My breath caught. My hands trembled. “…but what?”Her ey
Focus On Me.
SINCLAIR’S POVDarkness had been my only companion.A silence so complete, I thought maybe I’d drowned in it—become part of it.But then, little by little, the quiet fractured.At first, it was pressure. A low hum against my temples. Then warmth—a sharp, blinding light slicing through the back of my eyes. My chest heaved, my ribs rattled. My lungs remembered air before my mind remembered a name.The beeping came next. A steady rhythm. Mechanical. Too steady to belong to my heart.My eyelids dragged upward, every inch heavier than the last, until the ceiling swam into focus. White. Too white. Too clean.A voice so soft and feminine—wrapped around me.“Oh, thank God. You’re awake…”I blinked slowly, turning my head. A woman sat by the bed, elegant in a way that felt staged. Her hair fell in smooth waves. Her perfume was sharp, floral, cloying. She was holding my hand like it belonged to her.She smiled, glossy lips trembling as if the tears brimming in her eyes had been rehearsed.“Sinc
Only Me.
Veronica’s POVThe glow from my tablet cast a pale light across the room, painting my cheekbones sharper, my eyes colder than they already were. I sipped my champagne, slow and deliberate, savoring the tiny luxury of a moment uninterrupted by chaos—though the hospital feeds flickering in the corner told another story.April Dawn was in a meltdown somewhere in the St. Mary’s lobby. I could see the desperation in her movements, even through the grainy camera footage. Her hair clung damp to her forehead, her hospital gown half-slipping, and her hands shook like a leaf in a storm. And yet… she was predictable. She always had been.A low laugh escaped me. So much emotion, so much raw hysteria, all pointed in my direction, all wasted. She believed Sinclair Hale belonged to her because she had saved him from the forest, because she had bled beside him. She was proud of that, wasn’t she? Proud of her loyalty, proud of her devotion. Foolish, naïve, tragically… human.I set the glass down, lean
He Is Awake.
April’s POVThe first thing I noticed when I woke was the quiet. The world outside my little room seemed muted, as if the city itself had hushed to watch me struggle. The hum of my laptop was loud against the silence, the faint scent of yesterday’s coffee clinging stubbornly to the air. My hands hovered over the keyboard, but I didn’t type. I couldn’t. My mind was spinning faster than I could organize it.Sinclair was awake somewhere in this city, fighting through tubes and monitors, and I couldn’t be there. I couldn’t touch him, speak to him, or even sit near him without risking another public spectacle. The thought gnawed at me like acid. My chest felt tight, my fingers trembling with helpless fury. Veronica had managed to turn the entire narrative against me, painting me as hysterical, obsessive, unstable. Every word, every headline, every whispered rumor echoed in my skull.But I wasn’t going to let her win. Not this time.I pulled the laptop closer, scanning the folder Grandpa ha
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