Chapter 131: The Longest Night

Aveline's POV

The hospital waiting room smelled of bleach. The lights hurt my eyes. I sat on the chair and looked at the floor. Behind the double doors, doctors were working on my mother.

My phone was silent. The small booklet in my pocket felt heavy. Dr. Joanna Vincent. Eight sessions. The numbers stayed in my head. My mother had been seeing a therapist for months. If she knew the truth about Asher, why was she still calling me by his name? I was completely confused.

The front doors opened. Cold air rushed inside. Someone stopped in front of me. I looked up. It was Kieran.

He looked tired. I did not know how he had found me, and I did not have the strength to ask. He did not say a word about the photo timestamp or Cassian’s shouting. He just sat on the chair next to mine. He took my hands. His palms were warm against my cold skin. He did not force me to talk. He just let me lean against him.

"I've got you," Kieran whispered. "You are not alone, Aveline."

The silence became too thick. Every time the doors opened, my stomach twisted. I pulled my hands away and stood up.

"I need to wash my face," I said. My voice was low.

Kieran nodded. I walked down the narrow hall to the restroom. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The light hit the mirror above the sink.

I leaned against the porcelain and looked at my reflection. I looked like a stranger. I pulled my sweater collar down. The binders left raw red marks on my skin.

"Who am I anymore?" I whispered.

A soft knock hit the door.

"Aveline?" Kieran's voice called out. "The nurse is looking for us."

I gasped. My heart jumped. I fixed my clothes quickly and pulled my collar back up. I deepened my voice again. "Coming," I called back.

I opened the door. Kieran stood there holding two cups of black coffee. I set mine down on a ledge because my hands were shaking too much to hold it.

A nurse with a clipboard walked toward us. Her pen clicked loudly. She stopped and looked at my short hair.

"Are you the family for Evelyn Carter?" she asked.

"Yes..." I lied. "Is she okay?"

The nurse frowned, looking at my face. "How old are you, dear? Are you her legal next of kin? We need an adult to sign the admission paperwork. Is your father available?"

"No," I whispered. "My father is not alive. It is just me. I am eighteen."

The nurse signed her clipboard. "Alright. But you need to sign these financial forms using your legal name."

She handed me the paper and a pen. I stared at the blank line. Asher Carter. The name looked like a trap. My hand hovered over the sheet. Kieran stepped closer, using his body to hide the paper from the hallway view. I swallowed hard and wrote my dead brother’s name in a messy scrawl.

"Your mother had a severe psychological shock," the nurse said, taking the form back. "Her vitals are stable now, but she is completely sedated. We are moving her to the observation ward for the night. You can see her in a few minutes."

We walked back to the benches. I pulled the booklet out again and stared at the name.

"Kieran," I whispered, staring down at the card. "Mom has been seeing Dr. Vincent for months."

Kieran looked at the dates written on the paper, his jaw tightening. "Then why is she still calling you Asher every single day?"

Something wasn't right. Therapy should have helped. Instead, everything had gotten worse.

The weight of the silence pressed down on us. I stared at the booklet, my chest aching. The fear of what would happen when she woke up started to claw at my throat.

"Kieran," I whispered, my voice breaking. "What if she wakes up and calls me Asher again?"

Kieran did not answer right away. He kept his eyes on the hallway floor, his shoulder steady against mine.

I don't know why she's doing this," he admitted quietly. "But I know one thing. You're not facing it alone."

"What if she never sees me again?" I asked. My hands started to shake again. "What if Aveline is completely gone to her?"

"She will see you," Kieran said. His voice was low and firm. "We will find out why she is doing this. I promise you."

I looked at him, and I believed I could survive the morning.

The nurse came back and led us through the double doors. The observation ward was quiet. The only sound was the slow, steady beep of a heart monitor. My mother lay in the bed, looking small under the white sheets. A plastic tube was taped to her nose. Her face was pale.

I walked over and sat on the small stool next to the bed. Kieran stayed by the door. He gave me the space I needed, watching quietly from the shadows of the room.

I reached out and touched her hand. It felt cold. I used my thumb to gently brush her messy hair away from her face. She looked so worn out. The deep lines around her eyes and mouth showed months of quiet suffering that I had been too blind to see.

I remembered the last time she had called me

"Aveline" with a real smile, back before the world broke. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Mom..." I whispered softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't save him."

She did not open her eyes. She was deep in sleep from the medicine. But her brow furrowed, and her fingers twitched weakly against mine.

"Asher..." she murmured in her sleep, her voice weak and broken. "Don't leave... please..."

Tears spilled over my eyelashes. I bit my lip to keep from sobbing out loud. Even here, completely sedated, she was holding onto a ghost.

"She loved both of you," Kieran said quietly from the door. I squeezed her fingers. The door behind me clicked open gently. The nurse stood in the doorway,

"Excuse me," she whispered quietly. "The attending doctor needs to speak with Aveline Carter."

I stood up slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs. As I went to set her handbag on the bedside table so I could leave, a folded envelope slipped out from the main zipper and landed on the floorboards. I quickly snatched it up. Written on the front in a frantic handwriting that wasn't my mother's was a single name: Dr. Joanna Vincent.

I shoved it deep into my pocket. For months, everyone had called me Asher. Hearing "Aveline" again felt like someone had opened a locked door inside me. I walked toward the doorway, realizing I had almost forgotten how to answer it.