Chapter 103
Discomfort settled heavily over Charlotte as consciousness crept back, slow and reluctant. It wasn’t the sterile antiseptic kind – the kind that stole your breath and told you something was terribly wrong.
This was a deeper, more suffocating kind of unease, a feeling of being utterly out of place.
Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing an unfamiliar room. White walls, yes, but not the stark, institutional white of a hospital. These walls were adorned with swirling floral patterns, the kind that belonged in a grandma’s guest room, not a medical facility. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at her throat. Where was she?
She tried to sit up, but a dull ache throbbed in her lower abdomen, anchoring her to the bed. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing it to pass. When it did, a horrifying memory jolted back – the fight, the fall, the searing pain that had ripped through her like a fist.
Unease gnawed at her. The fall. Was that all? It felt like more, a dull ache that pulsed with a strange rhythm. But the memories were hazy, fragmented.
A faint scent of lavender oil wafted through the air, cloying and somehow suffocating. She hated lavender. It was Daniel’s favorite scent, the kind he used on his aftershave, the kind that lingered on their sheets after a night together.
The sound of a door creaking open made her head snap towards the source. A woman stood framed in the doorway. It was someone she didn’t recognize.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” the woman spoke, her voice gentle. She moved closer, concern etched on her face. Her name tag read ‘Roni,’ the friendly script a stark contrast to the cold, clinical setting Charlotte had expected.
Roni reached over and carefully fluffed the pillows behind Charlotte’s head. “Here, let me help you sit up a bit.” Her touch was surprisingly light, devoid of the rough urgency she might have encountered in a hospital.
Charlotte leaned back against the pillows, wincing as the ache in her
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Chapter 103
abdomen intensified. Roni held a glass of water to her lips, her
expression softening further. “Slow sips,” she murmured.
little to quench the thirst that seemed to burn from within. As she
Roni said, her voice dropping to a hushed tone. “You’re at a private residence. Mrs. Lockhart – “Charlotte’s breath hitched. Teresa.” – insisted you needed a quiet place to recover,” Roni continued, oblivious to Charlotte’s silent panic. “She’s very concerned about you.”
lips. Concerned? Teresa was the reason she was here, wherever ‘here’ was. The throbbing in her abdomen felt… different. It wasn’t like a regular period cramp. But what else
the sound. “How are you feeling?” she asked, her brow furrowing
confusion and unease. The
gently. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “The will be here soon to
happened filled her head. The fall. Teresa pushed her and she saw…. Blood. Blood… The
hiding Charlotte Lockhart. She’s currently in a small private property near
he immediately recalled the time when Alexander said it was a trap. As
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a trap for Charlotte. But… what if it was for Teresa?
being smart yet for some unknown reason, he could never figure out Alexander’s schemes.
away from the documents that he was
Teresa sent him to a
“Facility?”
mental institution. It seems that she’s planning to send him abroad
“Then let us
–
of a view a scraggly patch of untended grass and a skeletal tree,
cot, a rickety chair bolted to the flo a
over the table, a sharpened pencil clutched in his hand with a piece of paper. It
he disliked in the past, flowed through him, a
into the sterile surface. The song poured out
is that enough?
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