OLIVIA’S POV


    :


    What broke through the window wasn’t something you see every day. At first nce, it didn’t even look threatening – it was ck and cylindrical, rolling across the floor like a stray bottle. But the moment it hit the ground, everyone froze. The air thickened with confusion, and for a split second, my brain couldn’t make sense of it.


    Then it happened.


    A violent burst of white light erupted from the object, exploding with a thunderous bang that rattled the walls and shattered the tension into pure panic. My eyes burned, my vision dissolved into blinding whiteness, and before I knew it. I hit the ground hard, gasping as an awful ringing filled my ears.


    Was that… a sh bang?


    The realization struck me like ice water down my spine. That could only mean one thing. The police were


    here.


    The room dissolved into chaos. Shapes stumbled and crashed into each other, faceless silhouettes writhing in the same agony of blindness that I was. The sharp sound of crying pierced through the confusion – high- pitched, desperate, unmistakably a child’s voice. My heart dropped.


    Charlie.


    1 wed against the floor, blinking rapidly, but my eyes refused to adjust. I was caught in a fog of whiteness, every sound muffled under the sharp ringing that refused to fade. People were groaning, shouting, some crying out in terror. Even the robbers, who a few seconds ago had been holding us hostage with arrogant confidence, were no better off. Everyone was equally vulnerable.


    And then, above the chaos, came the heavy thunder of boots.


    The front doors crashed open with a metallic m, and the rhythm of disciplined footsteps pounded in, filling the room with raw authority. The chaos paused, just for a fraction of a second, as if everyone realized the nightmare was taking a sharp turn.


    “DOWN! GET DOWN! DON’T MOVE, ASSHOLE!” amanding voice bellowed.


    Even half–blind and disoriented, I knew instantly- these were the police. Relief surged through me, mixing with fear, mixing with disbelief. They were here. Adrian had been right after all. He hadn’t been lying.


    Through the ringing in my ears, I forced my voice out, shaky but determined. “Charlie!”


    I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him crying somewhere close, the sound desperate and terrified. My chest squeezed so tightly I could hardly breathe.


    “It’s okay, baby. Follow my voice. Come to me!” My words cracked, but I kept calling, reaching blindly through the white haze.


    I shuffled across the ground, one hand extended, following the faint pull of his voice. Each whimper<b>, </b><b>each </b>sob


    <b>9:16 </b>Mon<b>, </b>Sep 8 G.


    …


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    guided me forward until, atst, my fingers brushed against his trembling little arms. Relief mmed into me


    like a wave.


    “Mom!” he cried, throwing himself against me.


    I pulled him into my chest, wrapping him in the fiercest embrace I had ever given. My hands shook as I held him, my arms desperate to shield him from everything. For a moment, I forgot about the sticky blood that still clung to my palms, smearing onto his clothes. None of it mattered. He was here. He was alive.


    I pressed my face into his hair, breathing in his warmth, and whispered over and over, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”


    Around us, the world was copsing in noise. Shouts ofmand rang out from every corner as the police moved with precision. Boots thundered across the floor. Someone cursed. Someone else screamed. Bodies thudded against the ground as the officers wrestled the robbers into submission.


    Slowly, painfully slowly, my vision began to return. At first, it was only shifting shapes, shadows against blinding light. Then, little by little, the outlines sharpened. Blurs became colors. Colors became people. My sight wasn’t backpletely, but at least I could make out the storm unfolding around me.


    I nced down at Charlie. His tears had slowed, though his little face was still flushed red from crying. His breathing was shaky, but the sobs had quieted. He blinked up at me, eyes watery, and I realized he could see better now too. The fear in his gaze was easing, reced by the fragilefort of knowing I was there, holding him.


    All around us, the robbers were no longer in control. The same men who had terrorized the room minutes ago nowy t on the ground, pinned beneath the weight of officers in heavy gear. Handcuff’s clicked into ce, metallic and final, sealing their fate. Their shouts of defiance were drowned out by the police barking orders, their voices firm.


    For the first time since this nightmare began, a fragile sense of safety began to settle over me. My chest rose and fell with shaky breaths, but I held onto Charlie tighter, silently thanking God that he was unharmed.


    And thank God the police came just in time, before that bastard had pulled the trigger on me. My chest still heaved, lungs burning from the fear and adrenaline rushing through me.


    —


    For a moment, everything slowed. I scanned the room desperately, my eyes darting past the shing lights, the uniforms, the chaos. Then I found him the man who had nearly taken my life. He was being shoved forward, restrained, wrists cuffed tightly behind his back. His head hung low, but even from where I stood, I could see the cold glint in his eyes, the kind of look that promised this wasn’t over.


    The officers pushed him toward the exit, their voices a distant echo against the pounding of my own heartbeat. My fists clenched at my sides. Once all this chaos calmed down, I promised myself I would pay themissioner a visit. I needed answers. I needed to know who had sent these men after me. Someone wanted me dead, and I wasn’t going to sleep until I discovered who.


    Because now it was clear I had been wrong. Adrian wasn’t behind this attack.


    My gaze shifted, dropping down to the figure on the floor. Adrian’s body trembled as he struggled for breath, his chest rising unevenly. His face was pale, his lips tinged with blue, but his eyes still flickered with life, refusing to let go.


    9:17 Mon<b>, </b><b>Sep </b>8 B..


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    And Isadora… she was nowhere in sight again. She had vanished the moment the officers barged in, probably too terrified to stay with the man she imed to love. She had left him to bleed out, abandoned him in the most crucial moment. Some loyalty. Some devotion.


    I swallowed hard and forced myself forward, I crawled beside him. My hands moved on instinct, pressing firmly against the wound, trying to keep him tethered to this world.


    “Hey,” I whispered, leaning close, my voice firm but urgent. “Stay with me, alright? You’re gonna be okay. Help ising.”


    His eyelids fluttered, heavy with the weight of pain. His lips parted, but only a faint rasp of air escaped. Still, even in his weakness, he managed to give me a small nod, the faintest spark of determination in his expression.


    “Can we get a med over here?” I shouted, my voice cutting through the noise, raw with desperation. One of the officers snapped his head toward me, then quickly raised his radio to his mouth, rying the call.


    I kept my hands pressed down, the warm slickness of blood seeping through my fingers. My mind was a whirlwind – memories, doubts, questions colliding all at once. How did ite to this? How had we ended up here?


    The minutes dragged like hours, but then I heard it – the hurried footsteps, the tter of wheels. Relief hit me like air after drowning.


    The ambnce crew rushed in through the door, carrying a stretcher, their movements swift and practiced. “Step back!” one of them barked, and though every instinct in me screamed to hold on, I forced myself to move, giving them space to do their job.


    They knelt beside him, voices low and efficient, hands working quickly to stabilize him. Within moments, they had lifted him onto the stretcher. His head lolled slightly to the side, but then, as they raised him, his eyes found mine. Somehow, through all the pain, through all the chaos, he still managed to speak.


    “Now do you believe me?” he whispered, his voice cracked but steady enough to sting.


    The words hit me harder than I expected. My throat tightened. I wanted to answer, to tell him what I really thought, but I couldn’t – not now, not like this.


    “Shut up, okay,” I said quickly, my voice catching with small emotion than I wanted to admit. “I’ll answer your question when you get better. At the hospital.”


    His lips curved faintly, almost a smile, before his eyes slid shut again. The paramedics didn’t waste another second, carrying him swiftly toward the exit.


    I stood there frozen, watching them disappear through the doorway, swallowed by the shing lights outside. The room felt strangely quiet, though my cars still rang with the echoes of everything that had just happened.


    As they carried him away, a storm of thoughts flooded my mind. Every assumption I had made, every grudge I had carried against Adrian, suddenly felt unsteady, fragile. If he didn’t know these people… if he hadn’t been the one to bring them here… then that meant something far greater.


    It meant he hadn’t been the one to send them after me all those years ago, either.


    9:17 Mon, Sep 8 B…


    And that realization chilled me to my core.