Chapter 3

The next morning, I went to the hospital where Liam McKenna lay.

Mrs. McKenna met me, her face a mixture of hope and fear.

"Are you sure, Miss Vance?" she whispered. "After what you said before..."

"I've reconsidered," I told her, offering a small, reassuring smile.

Liam was pale, still, hooked up to a symphony of machines that beeped and hissed.

I asked his mother to give us some privacy.

Once alone, I pricked my finger. A single drop of my blood, dark and potent, mixed into a small vial of distilled water I' d prepared. It was a tiny amount, but enough.

I administered the remedy discreetly, a few drops into his IV line.

Over the next few days, I visited Liam. Each day, there was a subtle change. A flicker of an eyelid. A twitch of a finger.

Mrs. McKenna was ecstatic, her hope blooming.

By the seventh day, Liam McKenna opened his eyes.

His mother wept with joy, clutching my hands, calling me an angel.

"Please," I told her gently, "keep his full recovery quiet. Just until the tenth day. Let everyone see it then."

She agreed, her eyes shining with gratitude.

Meanwhile, a discreet message arrived from Mrs. Davenport. A video file.

It showed Veronica in Ethan's room, preparing his "orchid treatment." She crushed the wilted flower, mixed it with water.

Then, my eyes narrowed. Veronica glanced around, then quickly uncapped a small, dark vial. She added a few drops of an unlabeled, viscous liquid to the orchid infusion.

My blood ran cold. I knew that look. Deception.

On the eighth day, I visited Liam again. He was sitting up, talking weakly with his mother.

When he saw me, his eyes widened.

"Elara?" he rasped, his voice hoarse.

I froze. How did he know my name? Not "Miss Vance," but Elara.

"You... you remember me?" I asked, bewildered.

A faint smile touched his lips. "The old mill... by the river. The kidnappers. You were so scared."

My mind reeled. A forgotten childhood trauma. I' d been snatched, briefly. Someone had saved me. A boy. I' d given him a small, handcrafted leather bracelet as a thank you. In my past life, I' d convinced myself that boy was Ethan. A childish fantasy I' d clung to.

But it wasn't Ethan. It was Liam.

"You," I whispered, realization dawning. "You saved me."

He nodded, his gaze holding mine. "I never forgot."

The world tilted. My past, my memories, all shifting.

While I was processing this, Ethan' s condition, according to Mrs. Davenport' s increasingly frantic secret messages, was not improving with Veronica' s "orchid." In fact, he was complaining of strange pains in his legs.