Chapter 54

Elizabeth's POV

Chloe's scream still echoed in my ears.

It wasn't the kind of scream you could forget, either. It was sharp, raw—like something tearing apart inside her. And then Damon's hand was on her, his eyes like stone, and snap. Her body went still.

For a second, the room was silent. My own scream nearly broke me when it finally ripped out of my chest. "What did you do?!"

Vanessa's hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. Elijah stood frozen by the door, his expression unreadable but his jaw clenched.

Damon looked at us like we were idiots. "Relax." His tone was flat, dismissive, like we were overreacting to nothing. "She's not dead. Not permanently, anyway."

That was it. That was all he gave us. No comfort. No explanation. Just—relax.

And before I knew what I was doing, before my brain could even catch up with my body, my hand whipped across his face. The slap echoed through the hospital room, stinging my palm, burning my skin with the force of it.

The others froze.

Damon's head had barely moved. His cheek, pale and sharp under the fluorescent light, showed the faintest flush where my hand had landed. He didn't react—not at first. Not a sound, not a glare. Just silence.

Then, slowly, his eyes locked on mine, and his voice dropped low. "Never do that again."

My heart thundered in my chest, but anger drowned out the fear. "This is all your fault. All of it. Yours and your family's. If you hadn't come here—if you'd just stayed wherever the hell you came from—Chloe would still be alive. She'd still be human. She wouldn't be—" My voice cracked, but I forced the words out. "She wouldn't be one of you."

For once, Damon didn't smirk. He didn't laugh. He just stared at me, his jaw tightening, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

"Liz," Vanessa's voice broke through, soft and shaky as she grabbed my arm, pulling me back from him. She hugged me tightly, her warmth cutting through the ice in my veins. "Please. Don't. I know you're angry, but right now Chloe needs us. She needs them, too."

I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. "No. I can't—Vanessa, don't you get it? She's gone. My best friend—" My voice cracked again, and I buried my face against her shoulder. "She's gone."

"No." Vanessa's arms tightened around me like steel. "She's not gone. She's here. She's fighting. And if she's going to make it through this, if she's going to have any chance at all, it's because of them." She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, her face streaked with tears but strong. "You don't have to trust Damon. But you should trust Elijah."

That was big coming from her , I knew she didn't like any of them but her also trusting Elijah meant she had seen something in him.

I turned my head, my gaze finding Elijah across the room. He hadn't moved closer, hadn't tried to interfere, but the moment my eyes met his, I felt... steadier. His presence was calm, solid, like he'd anchored himself in the chaos.

"I give you my word," Elijah said, his voice deep, deliberate, carrying the weight of something unshakable. "Your friend will be protected. From my sister, from anyone who means her harm. She will not be left alone."

There was no arrogance in his tone, no smug superiority. Just a vow. And somehow, against all reason, I believed him.

Vanessa gave me a small, encouraging nod. "See? For now, let's just... go home. Rest. We'll come back tomorrow. Elijah will watch over her."

Elijah inclined his head once, like a knight swearing an oath.

I swallowed hard, anger still simmering in my veins, but exhaustion hit me all at once. I couldn't fight anymore. Not with Vanessa holding me, not with Elijah's promise lingering in the air.

Vanessa laced her fingers through mine and gave a gentle tug. Damon followed behind us silently, his footsteps soft against the sterile hospital floor. No one argued, not even him.

By the time we got home, the house felt wrong. Too quiet. Too empty. Too cold.

I collapsed onto my bed, but sleep never came. My body was exhausted, but my mind wouldn't stop. Chloe's scream replayed over and over, each echo cutting deeper. She'd died. She'd died, and now she wasn't Chloe anymore—she was one of them.

I stared at the ceiling until my eyes burned. The shadows seemed to twist along the corners of my room, stretching longer than they should, curling like fingers reaching for me. I couldn't shake the feeling. Ever since the Elvadors moved into town, I hadn't felt safe. Not once.

A shiver ran through me.

My curtains shifted slightly with the breeze from the half-open window. And then—I felt it.

Someone was watching me.

My chest tightened, my breath caught, and slowly, very slowly, I crept toward the window. My fingers trembled as I parted the curtain just enough to peek through.

There. A shadow in the yard, tall and unmoving. Staring.

I dropped the curtain, heart hammering against my ribs.

After a minute, I dared to look again.

Gone.

"Elizabeth?"

I jumped, spinning toward the voice. Vanessa stood in the doorway, a faint smile on her lips despite the weariness in her eyes.

"Can't sleep?" she asked softly.

I exhaled shakily. "Me either."

She padded into the room, her presence familiar and grounding. "Figures. You always overthink. It's like your superpower."

I tried to smile, but it didn't reach my eyes.

Vanessa climbed into bed beside me, tugging the blanket up around both of us like she had a hundred times before. "Scoot over. Whenever we couldn't sleep before, we did this. Why stop now?"

Her warmth against my side, her steady breathing—it was the first time all night I didn't feel like I was drowning. For a moment, I wasn't alone. For a moment, I almost believed we'd be okay.

And with her beside me, my eyes finally closed.

—

The next morning felt heavier than any nightmare. I dragged myself downstairs, the house too bright, too normal, as if the world hadn't just turned upside down.

But then—I stopped.

Vanessa's mom was in the kitchen. Cooking. Actually cooking. A plate of pancakes sat on the counter, steam rising in soft curls.

Vanessa blinked, her brows furrowing. "Mom? You're... making breakfast?"

Her mother turned, smiling warmly. "Of course. Today's a special day."

I frowned. "Special?"

She nodded, setting another pancake onto the stack. "For Chloe. She's doing so much better. The doctors said it's a miracle."

The words slammed into me.

My heart dropped.

Chloe.

Alive.

Alive, but not in the way they thought.

I forced a smile, but it felt brittle, fragile. Vanessa's hand brushed against mine under the table, grounding me, steadying me. We both knew the truth.

Chloe wasn't okay. She wasn't safe. And yet... somehow, the world kept turning like nothing had happened.

We ate in silence, the sound of clinking silverware filling the space where words should have been.

And when we left for school, it was as if a switch had flipped. The streets were alive again, kids laughing, cars honking, people waving. Life moved on, indifferent to the fact that Chloe had died and come back as something else entirely.

But inside me? Nothing felt normal. Not anymore.