Chapter 192
Elena: POV
My heart skipped. "Probably the pipes. Everything tastes like chlorine in hospitals."
He shrugged, took another sip, and sat down to help Lila open her takeout container.
Gotcha.
---
We ate. Lila chattered about a cartoon she'd watched that afternoon, something about talking animals and magic forests. Julian listened with that intense focus he seemed to reserve for our daughter, asking questions, laughing at her jokes.
I picked at my carbonara. Forced myself to swallow. To act normal.
And waited.
It took about twenty-five minutes.
Julian shifted in his seat. Frowned. Shifted again.
"You okay?" I asked, all false concern.
"Fine. Just..." He stood abruptly, his hand moving to his stomach. "Excuse me."
He walked—quickly—toward the bathroom attached to my hospital room.
The door closed. Locked.
And then I heard it. The unmistakable sounds of the laxative doing its job.
I didn't waste a second.
"Lila, baby, come here." I scooped her up from her chair, already reaching for her pink unicorn jacket. "We're going on an adventure."
"Right now?" She blinked, confused. "But I'm not done eating—"
"We'll get more food later. I promise." I shoved her arms into the sleeves, my hands shaking now. "But we have to go right now, okay? And we have to be very, very quiet."
From the bathroom came another sound—Julian's muffled groan.
"Mommy, what's wrong with Uncle Julian?"
"He's just sick, baby. He'll be fine." I grabbed my purse, checked for my wallet and phone. "But right now, I need you to choose. Do you want to stay here with Uncle Julian? Or do you want to come with Mommy?"
Her little face scrunched up, confused and worried. "Mommy, I don't understand what's happening—"
"I know, baby. I know." I cupped her face in my hands. "But I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"
She looked at the bathroom door. Then back at me.
"Mom, I don't know what's going on," she whispered. "But of course I choose you."
Relief flooded through me so hard I nearly sobbed. "Okay, baby. Okay. Hold my hand and don't let go."
I opened the door to the hallway. The security guard Julian had posted was still there, leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone.
He looked up as we emerged. "Mrs. Sterling—"
"Lila needs fresh air," I said briskly, not breaking stride. "We're taking a walk."
"Mr. Sterling said you shouldn't leave the floor without—"
"Mr. Sterling is indisposed." I met his eyes, daring him to argue. "We'll be back in twenty minutes."
He hesitated. Reached for his earpiece.
Fuck. He's calling for backup.
I didn't wait. I grabbed Lila's hand tighter and walked fast toward the stairwell instead of the elevator. If they were coordinating, they'd watch the elevators first.
"Mrs. Sterling!" The guard called after us, his voice sharp now.
I pushed through the stairwell door, Lila's hand tight in mine.
"Mommy, why are we taking the stairs?"
"It's faster, baby. And good exercise."
We descended quickly, our footsteps echoing in the concrete stairwell. I could hear the guard's voice above us, muffled but urgent as he spoke into his radio.
Five floors. Four. Three.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Julian: Where are you?
I ignored it.
Two. One.
I cracked open the door to the lobby, peering out. Two security guards by the main entrance, but they looked relaxed—they hadn't gotten the alert yet.
We slipped out of the stairwell and walked toward a side exit I'd noticed during my stay. Steady pace. Not too fast.
The cool night air hit my face as we stepped outside, and I wanted to run, wanted to scream, wanted to grab Lila and just go—
Not yet. Stay calm.
I flagged down a cab at the corner.
"Where to?" the driver asked as we climbed in.
"Penn Station," I said quickly. It was busy, crowded—easy to disappear in.
He nodded and pulled away from the hospital.
I looked back through the rear window. No one following. Yet.
"Mommy, are we going on a train?"
"Maybe, baby. We're just... exploring our options."
The cab wound through Manhattan traffic. I kept checking behind us, but saw nothing suspicious. Just normal city traffic.
Maybe this will actually work.
We were about ten blocks from the hospital when I saw her.
A woman in black, standing at a bus stop. Long coat, dark hair, something familiar about her posture...
Nancy.
My blood went cold.
No. You're being paranoid. Lots of people wear black coats.
But as we passed, the woman turned slightly, and I caught a glimpse of her profile.
Definitely Nancy.
Coincidence. Has to be.
The cab continued toward Penn Station. I forced myself to breathe, to think rationally.
Even if it was Nancy, so what? But wasn't she in London?
Unless Julian sent her.
Nancy's current outfit was almost identical to that woman in black from a few days ago—even though she'd been wearing a mask.
Was she the woman in black from before? But that woman hadn't approached us or tried to affect us in any way. Maybe I was overthinking this.
"Here we are," the driver announced, pulling up to Penn Station.
I paid him with shaking hands and helped Lila out of the cab.
The station was busy even this late—commuters heading home, tourists with luggage, the usual chaos of New York transit. Perfect.
We walked through the main concourse, and I started to relax. Lost in the crowd, anonymous, safe.
"Mommy, where are we going?"
"I'm still deciding, baby. Let's just walk for a minute."
I was scanning the departure board, looking for trains heading anywhere but back to Julian, when Lila tugged on my hand.
"Mommy, look."
I followed her gaze.
Nancy stood about fifty feet away, near the information booth. She'd taken off her coat now, revealing a black sweater underneath. She wasn't looking at us—she was studying her phone—but something about her presence made my skin crawl.
How did she get here so fast?
Was she following us?
The thought sent a chill down my spine.
If Nancy had been the woman in black at the cemetery, then she hadn't just happened to be there. She'd deliberately followed us to Virginia. To my mother's grave.
But why?
And if she'd been tracking us then, how long had this been going on? Had she been watching us before that? Following our every move while Julian told me she was safely thousands of miles away in London?
My phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: Running won't help, Elena.
I stared at the screen, my hands trembling.
Unknown Number: Some conversations are inevitable.
"Mommy?" Lila's voice seemed to come from very far away. "You look scared."
I looked up. Nancy was gone.
Where—
"Elena."
The voice came from directly behind me.
I spun around, pulling Lila close.
Nancy stood there, maybe ten feet away. Up close, the resemblance between us was even more unsettling—the same bone structure, the same coloring. Like looking at a funhouse mirror version of myself.
But her eyes... her eyes were wrong. Too bright. Too focused.
"We need to talk," she said quietly.
"I don't think we do." I backed away, keeping Lila behind me.
Nancy took a step forward. "It's about Julian. About what he's been hiding from you."
"I'm not interested."
"You should be." Her voice was soft, almost gentle. "Especially now that you have Lila to think about."
The way she said my daughter's name—like she knew her, like she had some claim to her—made my blood run cold.
"Stay away from us."
Nancy smiled.
"Elena," she said again, taking another step closer. "How the hell are you still breathing?"
The words hit me like a slap. The venom in her voice, the way she spat out the question like my very existence offended her—it made my stomach drop.