Chapter 62 The Rising Tension ( Demilia’s POV)
I sensed it before I even noticed the shift in air pressure. The tension was thick, weighing down the hallway. Every footstep sounded heavier, and the usual background hum felt like it was closing in. Then the door swung open.
Two orderlies walked in, one on each side of Dr. Keller. She looked as stern as always.
“Mrs. Blackwell,” she said, her voice flat, not a drop of warmth in it. “You need to come with us.”
“Where?” I asked, my hands automatically covering my stomach.
“Evaluation wing,” she answered, like she was asking me to grab coffee.
“Am I under arrest?” My heart hammered in my chest.
“No,” she said, but I didn’t buy it for a second.
“Then I’m not going anywhere,” I told her, planting my feet.
The security officer moved closer, all business. “Mrs. Blackwell, we’re asking you to comply.”
“Say it,” I demanded, letting my anger sharpen my words. “Say you’re forcing a pregnant woman to obey.”
Nobody said a word. They just looked at each other, unsure.
Dr. Keller let out a tired sigh, like she wished she were anywhere else. “Please don’t make this harder.”
“You already did,” I shot back, my voice steady.
They reached for me, hands gentle but firm. Fear hit me hard, but something else was stronger. I’d come too far to let them break me now.
Somewhere, cameras rolled, files copied, voices whispered. This was the moment my invisible cell turned into evidence.
Ethan’s POV
As soon as the doors closed behind her, everything snapped into focus.
This wasn’t just manipulation anymore. They’d crossed the line into outright captivity.
“She’s pregnant,” I said into the secure line, my voice cold but burning underneath. “You can’t just make her disappear.”
Reyes paused before she answered. “She’s safer where she is.”
“That’s a lie,” I told her, barely holding back my anger. “You know it.”
“You’re being emotional,” she replied, cool as ice. “That makes you ineffective.”
“No, it makes me honest,” I fired back.
We sat in silence. It felt like the whole room was holding its breath.
“Release her,” I said, no more beating around the bush.
“That’s not happening,” she said. She wasn’t budging.
I hung up, furious.
Adrian stood next to me, doubt written all over his face. “We can’t just storm a federal facility.”
“No,” I said, “but we can shine a light on what they’re doing.”
Liora’s fingers flew over her tablet. “I’m rerouting the feeds. If they’re watching her, we’ll watch them right back.”
“They’ll cut us off eventually,” Adrian said, eyeing the monitors.
“Maybe,” Liora said, “but not before we get what we need.”
I watched the live feed, my heart pounding. There was Demilia, alone but unbroken, spirit burning bright.
Demilia’s POV
That first night stretched on forever. Everything was so quiet, it was almost suffocating.
They let me sleep, take showers, and eat food that tasted suspiciously like it was designed to keep me calm. But no matter how polite they acted, the pressure just kept building. This was a power game, and I was just a piece they’d moved without asking.
Then came day two. Assessments started.
“How are you feeling emotionally?” Dr. Keller asked, eyes searching my face for cracks.
“Angry,” I said, staring right back at her.
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “That’s understandable.”
“Is it?” I challenged her. “Or is it just inconvenient for you?”
She hesitated, pen in the air, our eyes locked. “Why would it be inconvenient?”
“Because exhausted people give in,” I told her, voice steady. “You want me pliable.”
“Demilia,” she said, slow and careful, “we’re trying to help.”
“No,” I corrected her. “You’re trying to rewrite the story.”
Every session was a battle. I stood my ground, refusing to play by their rules.
Ethan’s POV
By day six, Reyes started to lose her grip.
She leaked just enough information to stir up trouble, but not enough to show the truth. Headlines screamed: “Anonymous sources suggest Demilia is undergoing evaluation for stress-induced delusions.”
“Classic move,” Adrian muttered, anger simmering. “They’re making her look crazy.”
“Yeah,” Liora agreed, voice flat. “But she’s behind.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, paying close attention.
Liora spun her screen around.
Live feeds. Mirrors from servers all over the world.
“The movement didn’t stall,” she said, a hint of excitement in her voice. “It grew.”
“They’re telling their own stories now,” Adrian said. “No leader, just witnesses.”
“That’s real power,” I said, hope flickering inside me.
“They don’t need Demilia anymore,” Adrian said quietly.
“No,” I said, feeling my resolve harden. “Demilia made herself impossible to erase.”
My phone buzzed, slicing through that weird silent tension you get from an unknown number.
I picked up, straining to catch every sound.
A woman’s voice came through, quiet but sharp. “Mr. Blackwell, you don’t know me. I work inside.”
My chest tightened. “Where’s my wife?”
“She’s stable,” she said, trying to sound reassuring. “But they’re watching her. Really close.”
I didn’t buy it. “That’s exactly the problem.”
She paused, like she was making sure nobody was listening. “They’re ramping up psych evaluations. Pushing meds.”
My stomach dropped. “She doesn’t need any medication.”
“She knows,” the woman said. “She’s being careful. She’s pushing back, but quietly.”
“How long before they try to call her unfit?” I pushed.
“Days,” she said. “Not weeks. Days.”
I swallowed hard, urgency hitting me like a wave. I turned to Adrian and Liora. “We’re out of time.”
Demilia’s POV
The tray landed in front of me at noon two tiny pills in a plastic cup and a glass of water.
“Doctor’s orders,” the nurse said, smiling in a way that set my nerves on edge.
“Mood stabilizers?” I asked, not bothering to hide my suspicion.
I stared at the pills. They looked harmless, but I knew better.
“No,” I said. Firm. Clear.
The nurse wavered. “Mrs. Blackwell, you really should”
“I said no.” I met her eyes, steady. “Write it down.”
She left, and for a second, saying no felt like armor heavy, but it held.
On day four, they cut my calls with Ethan down to ten minutes, all closely watched. Day five, they took my phone.
Then day six came, and something shifted.
The nurse with the stiff walk came back, barely glancing at my vitals.
She leaned in close, whispering fast. “You need to make noise. Now.”
My heart was hammered. “How?” I breathed out.
“Your husband’s close. Closer than you think,” she said, almost urgent.
Before I could ask anything else, she straightened up and disappeared.
I sat there, pulse racing, mind spinning. The pieces started to click together. I finally knew what I had to do.