Chapter 69: "Can You Keep A Secret?"
Ivy
I blinked against the darkness of the room, my heart pounding for a second before I registered the sound. It was coming from the door.
The voice on the other end called me again. It was Joe.
Joe came in and handed me the new phone. With trembling fingers, I dialed my father’s number. The moment he picked up, my composure crumbled.
“Dad,” I choked out, my voice breaking as tears streamed down my face.
“Oh my God, Ivy!” he screamed instantly, his voice thick with unshed tears. “Are you okay? Talk to me. Where are you?”
“I—I’m fine now,” I managed between shaky breaths. “The police are handling it. I just—I just wanted to hear your voice.”
He let out a slow, heavy breath. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice raw with guilt. “I’m sorry your uncle and I weren’t there when you needed us.”
A sob escaped me before I could stop it. “I was so scared, dad,” I admitted.
“I know, baby,” he murmured. “But you’re safe now. That’s all that matters.” He paused. “Tell me what happened. Who found you?”
I swallowed hard, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “I will tell you everything,” I said softly. “But when you come back.”
“Okay baby. We will be back as soon as the travel ban is lifted,” he assured me.
I closed my eyes, nodding even though he couldn’t see me. “Okay,” I whispered.
We spoke for a little while longer, and I took a moment to talk to Uncle Marcus before finally forcing myself to say goodbye.
I ended the call, placed the phone by the headboard, and lay back down. Exhaustion weighed on me, pulling me under.
—-
Hours later, I stirred as the soft glow of dawn crept through the curtains, casting gentle rays across the room. The familiar scent of my father still lingered around the room, wrapping around me like a fragile shield.
It was comforting, yet it ached—a reminder of what I had lost and what I was still so desperately clinging to.
I turned onto my side, my fingers brushing over the empty space beside me. I couldn't help but miss Leo. I wanted to see him so badly, But the betrayal stung more than I could admit.
And now, even here, the silence felt heavier. His absence wasn’t just a void—it was a weight pressing down on me.
Pushing back the covers, I sat up slowly. My feet met the cool hardwood floor, sending a slight shiver through me. The robe slipped from my shoulder, and I pulled it tighter around myself, as if it could somehow hold me together.
I moved toward the window, parting the curtains just enough to peek outside. The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and orange, a beauty that felt almost mocking against the emptiness I felt inside. I pressed my forehead against the glass, breathing in deeply, trying to ground myself.
Today, I would have to face it all again—the world, the questions, the pitying looks from people at work. But for a few more minutes, I let myself stay there, in this room.
The exhaustion clung to me, more emotional than physical. My chest felt tight, my throat raw.
Nightmares had a way of draining you, leaving you hollowed out and brittle. I've had my share of nightmares and now, it seems to be merging with my reality.
I didn’t want to face today—not yet. Maybe if I closed my eyes, just for a little while longer, I could escape this reality.
I slipped back into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. The warmth wrapped around me, and I sank into it like a desperate child clinging to a mother’s embrace. My eyelids fluttered shut, and the world began to blur.
Sleep took me quickly—too quickly.
At first, it was nothing but darkness. Peaceful. Silent.
But then—
A voice.
Faint, distant—calling my name.
“Aria…”
The voice was small. Young. Familiar.
My heart clenched.
“Aria… help me…”
Oliver.
I froze, my breath catching in my chest. His voice. I knew it as well as my own.
I was no longer in my room. I stood in a forest—dense, dark, and cold. The trees loomed above me like silent giants, their twisted branches reaching down as though to grab me.
The ground beneath my bare feet was damp and slick with mud. A thick fog coiled around my ankles, snaking through the trees like a predator.
I turned in circles, searching.
“Oliver?” My voice trembled.
A scream tore through the trees—piercing, agonizing.
“Aria!”
Panic surged through me. I stumbled forward, branches clawing at my arms as I pushed through the undergrowth.
“Oliver, I’m coming!”
His screams continued—desperate, broken, filled with pain. Each cry shattered me.
“Where are you?” I shouted.
I ran, my breath ragged, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might explode. The forest seemed endless. The more I ran, the further his voice seemed to drift away.
The fog thickened, wrapping around me like a suffocating veil. I could barely see in front of me.
“Aria…”
His voice was weaker now.
“Oliver, please!” Tears blurred my vision.
Then—silence.
I stopped, chest heaving. The air felt wrong. Too still. Too quiet.
“No… no… don’t do this,” I whispered.
The silence was louder than any scream. It pressed against my ears until they rang.
I spun around, searching, desperate for any sign of him.
Then I saw him.
My breath caught in my throat.
Oliver lay on the ground, his small body twisted unnaturally, eyes wide and lifeless. His chest was torn open, his heart—missing.
“No!” I staggered forward, but my feet felt like lead.
A shadow moved beside him.
I froze.
My blood turned to ice.
She stepped into the light—my sister, Lila.
Her hair hung in damp strands around her face, her eyes black like voids. Her lips curled into a smile that was both cruel and familiar.
In front of her, on the ground, was Oliver’s heart—beating, twitching like a wounded animal. Blood pooled around it, soaking into the dirt.
Lila crouched beside his body, her fingers stained red.
Our eyes locked.
Her smile widened.
She raised a bloodied hand to her lips and pressed a single finger against them.
“Shhh…” she whispered.
I couldn’t breathe.
I wanted to scream, to run, to do anything—but I was paralyzed.
She leaned closer, her voice low, sickly sweet.
“Can you keep a secret?”
Her words slithered into my ears, wrapping around my brain like a vice.
The ground shifted beneath me. My vision blurred. The forest seemed to tilt, the trees warping into grotesque shapes.
I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
Lila’s eyes never left mine. That smile—so calm, so knowing—burned itself into my mind.
My chest tightened.
Suddenly, she lunged forward, her face inches from mine. Her breath was warm, metallic.
“Can you keep a secret?” she whispered again, slower this time, savoring every word.
I snapped awake.
My heart was racing, my sheets drenched in sweat. My throat burned as though I had been screaming for hours.
The room was dark now, the morning light long gone.
I gasped for air, clutching at my chest, trying to convince myself it wasn’t real. But the image of Oliver’s lifeless eyes and Lila’s blood-stained smile was seared into my memory.
I glanced around the room, expecting to see her standing in the corner, watching me. But there was nothing—only shadows.
My hands trembled as I wiped the tears from my face.
It was just a dream.
But it didn’t feel like just a dream.
Lila.
What if she… No. It couldn’t be. She wasn’t anywhere near the scene that day.
I killed Oliver. I felt his body go limp, and watched the light fade from his eyes.
But then—why did the memory feel wrong? Why does it feel like something is missing?
What if that wasn’t her at all?
What if it was me? We share the same face, after all.
I pushed the thought away, but it clung to me like a curse.
My breathing slowed, but my heart refused to settle. I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 2:17 PM.
Hesitantly, I pulled myself up and dragged my feet toward the bathroom. Maybe I needed to step out, to drown myself in work, in noise, in people—anything to silence the chaos in my mind.
I turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face before gripping the sink, my knuckles turning white. When I lifted my gaze to the mirror, I expected to see myself.
But all I saw was her smile—and Oliver’s heart, still beating on the forest floor.