Present

Roman’s bandaged hand was still warm beneath mine. The moment I finished tying the gauze, he didn't pull away; instead, he seized my arm. His grip wasn't bruising, but it was enough to pull me into the center of the storm brewing in his eyes—a vortex of red-threaded fury and agonizing empathy.

"What did you just say?" His voice was a low, lethal vibration.

I swallowed a knot of cold dread. "A week after the first time... the shadow came back. He returned to ensure I was thoroughly broken, using fear as a leash to keep me from ever speaking the truth again."

The air in the room seemed to vanish. I forced the words out because the silence was a tomb I couldn't live in anymore. "He made it clear that my silence was the price of my safety. He made me feel as if the air I breathed was a gift he could take away. I was so desperate for the nightmare to end that I started apologizing for things I never did—for smiling, for breathing, for existing."

I tried to let out a dry laugh, but it turned into a jagged, ugly sob. I collapsed back onto my knees at his feet. "I begged for it to stop. I told him I wouldn't tell anyone. I just wanted to be invisible again."

Roman was unnaturally still—a statue of cold rage. "And what happened next, Savannah?"

"That was when I realized the nightmare had left a permanent mark," I whispered. "I was staring at a reality I couldn't run from. I was pregnant."

Flashback

The bathroom was a sterile cage, the fluorescent light flickering like a warning. I stared at the two lines on the test, my heart hammering a rhythm of pure terror and a strange, fragile hope. Despite the darkness of its origin, a part of me—the lonely, desperate part—clung to the idea of something that was finally mine. A life I could love, unlike the way I had been loved.

But the door creaked open. My mother stood there. She didn't offer comfort. She saw the test, and her face turned to stone. By dinner, the entire house knew.

Present

"When my father found out," I told Roman, my voice sounding like it belonged to a ghost, "I thought he would finally see the evidence. I thought the truth would force him to be the father I needed."

I tasted salt as tears tracked into my mouth. "But he didn't see a victim. He saw a threat to his social standing. He struck me—not to wake me up, but to silence me. He demanded to know whose 'mistake' I was carrying, refusing to hear the name of the man he called a friend."

Flashback

The kitchen echoed with my father's rage. When I whispered the Professor's name, his response was a violent denial. My mother stood by, her silence acting as a seal on my fate. Chloe watched from the shadows, her eyes wide with a terror that made her turn and flee. I was left alone in the wreckage.

Present

"Monica found out too," I whispered. "She didn't come with pity. She came with venom, calling me a liar and a predator. She claimed I had seduced him for attention, turning the knife in a wound that was already terminal."

I pulled in a sharp breath. "They forced me to recant. My father told me that if I wanted to stay in that house, I would tell Alyssa it was all a lie—an affair I was bitter about. So I lied to her. I protected the monster to survive the family."

"And the child?" Roman's voice was cold enough to freeze bone.

"My father ensured the evidence was erased," I whispered. "He took away the only part of me I thought I could save. And Alyssa... she was told it was my choice to cover my 'sins.' She never forgave me for what she thought was a betrayal of her trust. She still thinks I'm a homewrecker, not a survivor."

The weight of the confession sat between us, heavy and immovable. I waited for Roman's rage to explode, but he didn't move. He just stared at me, his knuckles white as bone.

Finally, he spoke. "What if you woke up tomorrow and the people who did this to you... no longer existed?"