Page 21

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

Paigelynn

The room is cold.

So cold it feels like the walls are alive, pressing against me, suffocating me. My wrists ache where the cuffs bite into my skin. My arms hang limp at my sides. I could fight them, but what would be the point? I tried before, and here I am.

Caught.

Trapped.

Waiting for her .

This is the second room guards have put me in. The previous one was just as bad, a doctor who smells like cheese and whisky taking my blood, measuring my heart rate and oxygen level, feeling my chest in the least professional way possible to make decisions about how to cut me open.

I fought there, too. Hard enough to push one of the tubes of blood off the tray until it shattered.

The guards were forced to drag me into this new room, where the restraints are tighter, the equipment more modern.

When I crane my neck and twist, I can see a full operating room next door.

In a few moments, they'll put me under and cut me open.

The room goes wavy. This is a sick fever dream, right?

I take in a long, shaky breath. At least I can still do that.

Hopefully, I bought myself time. Where is Cam?

The door creaks open, and hope grows in me, until.

Oh .

The hiss of her oxygen tank. The sight of guards behind her. The flash of a dark gun.

My chest tightens, and I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek, trying to steady myself. I can’t let her see me break.

She steps inside, her pale face washed out under the harsh fluorescent lights.

Angelina. The Mother. I don’t know what to call her anymore.

How about That Bitch ?

For years, she was everything to me—my teacher, my guide, the woman I thought loved me. I trusted her more than I trusted myself.

And it was all a lie.

Her oxygen tank wheels behind her, clicking softly against the floor. She looks frail, her thin hands trembling as she grips the handle.

But I know better. Angelina’s power doesn’t come from her body. It comes from the way she looks at you.

The way she makes you believe you’re nothing without her.

She stops a few feet away, her lips curling into that familiar, cold smile. It’s the smile that used to make me feel safe.

Now it just makes my stomach churn.

“My precious heart,” she says, her voice rasping but sharp. “It’s been far too long since we had a real talk.”

I clench my fists, the cuffs digging deeper into my wrists. “Don’t call me that,” I snap. “I’m not your heart.”

“Oh, but you are,” she replies smoothly, like she’s explaining something obvious. “You’ve always been mine, Paigelynn. From the moment you were born, you belonged to me.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I belonged to my parents. Until you stole me.”

She tilts her head, pretending to look thoughtful. “Your parents handed you over willingly,” she says. “They knew you were special. They knew you were meant for something greater.”

“Special?” I laugh bitterly, the sound harsh in the silent room. “You mean I was a match. A perfect match for your heart. That’s all I’ve ever been to you.”

Her smile widens. “Exactly,” she says, like it’s something I should be proud of. “You were destined for this. You were made for this. Think of the gift to humanity you're giving.”

“You're committing murder,” I spit, my voice trembling with anger. “Don't sugarcoat it. That’s not destiny. That’s selfishness.”

Her oxygen tank hisses again, filling the silence. “You think I’m selfish?” she asks, her tone soft, almost amused. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve sacrificed for you? How much I’ve done to make you what you are?”

“You didn’t make me. You destroyed me. You lied to me my whole life. You made me believe I had a purpose, but it was all for you .”

Her eyes narrow, her smile fading. “I gave you everything,” she says, her voice sharp. “I taught you how to walk, how to speak, how to think. Without me, you’d be nothing.”

“Without you, I’d be free,” I snap. My voice cracks, but I don’t care. She doesn’t deserve my silence. “You didn’t teach me to think. You taught me to obey. You twisted everything I was, everything I could have been. And for what? So you could take my heart?”

Her pale hand tightens on the handle of the oxygen tank. “Careful, Paigelynn,” she says, her voice low and warning. “You’re treading on dangerous ground.”

I lean forward as far as the cuffs will let me, my voice steady and cold. “You don’t scare me anymore,” I say. “I should have destroyed my heart while I had the chance.”

Her eyes flicker with something—surprise? Amusement? It’s hard to tell. “Ah,” she says softly, tilting her head. “Regret. That’s new for you.”

“I should have plunged that knife into my chest,” I say, my voice rising. “I should have ended this, right there in that hallway. I should have taken that choice away from you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and sharp. My chest feels tight, my breathing uneven. I think of the knife, the way it felt in my hand, the way it hovered over my heart.

For a moment, I’d been ready. Ready to end it. Ready to destroy the one thing she wants most.

But I couldn’t do it. Not then.

Not yet.

Angelina sighs, a rasping, drawn-out sound. “You couldn’t do it,” she says, her tone mocking. “Because you’re not as strong as you think you are. You couldn’t even save yourself.”

Her words hit hard, but I force myself not to react. “I don’t need to save myself,” I say. “Cam will come for me.”

Her smile returns, wider now, almost gleeful. “You mean my Mario?” she says, her voice dripping with scorn. “If Mario really loved you, don’t you think he’d be here by now? Where is he, Paigelynn? Where’s your knight in shining armor?”

My chest tightens, the words cutting deeper than I want to admit. “He’s coming,” I say, but my voice wavers.

“Is he?” she asks, tilting her head. “Or has he already moved on? You were just another mission to him, Paigelynn. A burden he took on because he had to. Not because he wanted to.”

“Shut up,” I snap, the words bursting out of me. My hands shake, the cuffs biting into my skin. “You don’t know anything about him.”

“I know more than you think,” she replies, her smile turning cold again. “I know that boys like Mario don’t stay. They don’t save the girl. They save themselves .”

I shake my head, forcing the doubt away. Cam is coming. I know he is.

He always comes for me.

Always .

“You don’t understand,” I say, my voice trembling but firm. “He sees me. The real me. Not what you made me. Not what you want me to be. Me .”

Her lips curl into a mocking smile. “Oh, yes,” she says lightly. “He sees you. He’s certainly seen you in ways no one else has, hasn’t he? How intimate.” She tilts her head, her eyes glinting with something dark. “You know, it’s almost incestuous. After all, I raised you. And Mario is my son.”

Her words hit like a slap, hot and stinging. My stomach churns with disgust, but I don’t let her see it. I won’t give her the satisfaction.

“You’re not my mother,” I say, my voice low and steady. “You’re too cold, too cruel, to ever know what love is.”

Her smile freezes, her eyes narrowing into slits. “You think you understand love?” she asks, her voice sharp. “You think Mario loves you? You’re a tool to him, Paigelynn. Just like you were to me.”

“No,” I say, my voice rising. “Cam sees me as a person. Not as a heart. Not as a tool. A person . You don’t have friends – you have people you dangle power over. You don’t know intimacy – you substitute it with mockery and pecking orders. Love is something you’ll never understand.”

The room falls silent, the tension suffocating. Her oxygen tank hisses again, the sound loud and grating. For a moment, she just stares at me, her pale face unreadable. Then she straightens, her frailty more visible than ever.

She looks old. Weak.

But her voice is sharp and unyielding.

“Take her,” she says, gesturing to the guards. “Prepare her for surgery. It will be good to breathe fully again. I cannot wait.”

My stomach twists, but I don’t let the fear show. As the guards approach, I keep my eyes on her, my gaze steady and unflinching.

“You’ll never win,” I say, my voice low but full of conviction.

Her smile returns, thin and mocking. “Looks like I am winning, dear,” she says softly.

I feel the cuffs digging into my wrists as I shift slightly, my anger boiling over. “You’re a coward,” I snap, my voice trembling but loud. “You hide behind lies and people who follow you because they’re too afraid to stand up to you.”

Her smile fades for a fraction of a second, her lips tightening into a hard line. But then it’s back, cold and sharp. “Bravery doesn’t suit you, Paigelynn,” she says, her voice low and cutting. “You were made for this. Your heart is mine, no matter how loudly you scream.”

The guards grab my arms, their grips like iron. I thrash against them, pulling and twisting, but it’s no use. They’re too strong.

My chest tightens as panic claws its way up my throat.

But before they can drag me away, a loud, piercing alarm fills the air. The lights flicker, and a spray of water bursts from the ceiling as the sprinklers activate. The guards freeze, their grips loosening as they look around in confusion.

Angelina’s oxygen tank hisses louder as she straightens, her frail body trembling. “What is this?” she demands, her voice sharp with anger. “Find out what’s happening!”

The guards exchange glances, unsure of what to do. My heart races as I realize what’s happening.

It’s him.

Cam.

He’s here.

Once again, I feel a flicker of hope.

And I hope it's not for the last time.