Hollow Echoes

Hollow Echoes

When Annie woke, the world didn’t feel real. It was quiet—too quiet—except for the soft, rhythmic beeping beside her. A white ceiling swam in and out of focus. Her throat ached, her chest burned, and every breath felt like she was dragging air through fire.

“Annie?”

The voice was low, strained. Alaric’s voice.

Her head turned weakly toward the sound. He sat beside her bed, his shirt rumpled, his eyes red—not from sleep, but from the kind of exhaustion that came from panic. His hand hovered above hers, steady but trembling.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You’re safe now.”

She blinked. The word safe didn’t make sense. There was something she was supposed to remember—something that clawed at the edge of her mind. And then, like a wave, it all came crashing back.

The school gates. The van. The hiss of gas. Rosy’s laughter fading into a cry. Ryan’s hand gripping hers.

Her heart seized.

Her fingers twitched under the blanket. “The twins…” she whispered. “Where—where are my babies?”

Alaric froze. He didn’t speak, and that silence—the absence of an answer—shattered her.

“Where are they?” she demanded, her voice cracking. She tried to sit up, pulling the IV line, but Alaric reached for her shoulders.

“Annie, listen to me—”

“No!” she screamed, shoving at him with surprising force. “Where are my children? Where are Rosy and Ryan?”

“Annie, please—”

“Answer me!” Her voice broke, desperate and raw.

His lips parted, but no words came. He didn’t have to say it—she saw it in his eyes. The truth hit like a bullet to the chest.

Her breath caught, and the world seemed to tilt. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, no, no—” She tore the IV from her arm, the monitor’s beeping spiking as blood dotted the sheet. “They were right beside me. I held them, Alaric, I want them!”

Alaric caught her as she stumbled out of bed, her knees buckling. “Annie—stop—you’ll hurt yourself—”

She hit at his chest, clawing, trembling. “Let me go! I have to find them—I have to find my children!”

Her cries filled the room, sharp and unbearable. Nurses rushed in, but Alaric lifted a hand, his voice rough. “Give us a minute.”

The nurses hesitated, then left, the door clicking shut behind them.

Annie fell to the floor, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. The kind of sobs that ripped through her body until she was gasping, choking on her own tears.

Alaric knelt beside her, his own hands shaking as he tried to steady her shoulders. “Annie, look at me—”

“They’re just children Ric,” she cried, her words collapsing into broken breaths. “They don’t know how to be without me. Ryan gets scared when it’s dark, and Rosy—she—she’s afraid of loud noises—”

Her voice cracked completely. “Oh God, Alaric—they must be so scared.”

He pulled her into his arms then, holding her tight against his chest, his own eyes burning. He had never felt so helpless in his life. All his power, all his money, and none of it could fix this moment—none of it could bring her peace.

“I’ll find them,” he whispered against her hair. “I swear it.”

But she wasn’t listening. She was shaking violently, muttering their names again and again, like saying them would bring them back.

“Rosy. Ryan. My babies… please come back to me…”

Her fingers clutched his shirt, her sobs turning into gasps as her breathing quickened. Her body was trembling uncontrollably, her skin pale and cold.

“Annie—hey—breathe, okay? You need to breathe.”

She didn’t. She couldn’t. Her chest heaved, eyes wide with panic.

The monitors started beeping faster, her pulse spiking dangerously. Alaric looked up sharply. “Get a doctor!”

The medical team rushed in. A nurse tried to calm her, but Annie kept fighting, screaming through tears. “Let me go! They need me! My babies need me!”

A doctor quickly prepared a syringe. “She’s going into shock,” he said firmly. “Hold her still.”

Alaric’s hands tightened around hers as she thrashed weakly. “It’s okay, Annie. I’m here. You’ll see them again, I promise you—just rest, please—”

She looked at him one last time, her tear-filled eyes full of agony. “Don’t let them hurt my babies,” she whispered.

“I won’t,” he said, his voice breaking. “I won’t, I promise.”

Alaric’s hand moved through her hair, his own breathing unsteady. He had seen many horrors in his life, had faced ruthless men and impossible situations—but this was different. This was Annie. This was her heart being torn apart in front of him, and he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stand it.

The hospital door creaked open. A nurse stepped in, hesitant. “Mr. Devereux, the police want to speak with Miss Yin when she’s stable enough.”

Alaric turned sharply, his voice cold. “Not now.”

The nurse nodded and quietly slipped out, leaving them in the heavy silence.

Annie lifted her head, her tear-streaked face pale and hollow. “Who did this?” she asked, almost too quietly in a whisper.

Alaric’s gaze darkened. “We’re working on it. The surveillance footage was wiped clean before the authorities arrived. Whoever planned this knew exactly what they were doing.”

Her lips trembled. “They took them… they took our children.” She clutched at his shirt, her fingers shaking uncontrollably. “Rosy can’t sleep without

Her words broke into sobs again, the kind that came from a place no comfort could reach.

Alaric pulled her close once more, pressing his lips to her hair, his eyes staring past her to the empty wall. His mind was already running through names, enemies, anyone bold enough to touch what was his.

He had been in a meeting across town when he got the call. Annie’s driver had been found unconscious. Two cars abandoned by the roadside. The twins missing.

For a moment back then, he hadn’t felt anything. Just silence. Emptiness.

Then came the fire—the kind that burned through reason, through control. He had gotten to the scene before the paramedics finished clearing it. He had seen Annie lying on the ground, pale and still, the flowers scattered beside her hand—black, white, and dark red.

He’d known then.
Someone wasn’t just after the twins. Someone wanted to destroy her.

Now, sitting beside her in the hospital room, he could see it—the fear, the disbelief, the guilt carving itself into her features.

Annie pressed her palms to her face, her voice barely a whisper. “They were just children, Alaric. They didn’t do anything wrong, they haven’t harmed anyone. They are so innocent.”

“I know.”

“They were supposed to be safe.”

He didn’t respond. There was no comfort left to offer, no words that could make this right.

Annie lowered her hands slowly, her eyes empty and glassy. “You’ll find them,” she said, not as a question, but as a plea. “You’ll bring them back to me.”

“I will,” he said without hesitation, his voice rough. “I swear it, Annie.”

Something flickered in her expression then—a faint spark of hope, or maybe desperation dressed as trust. “Please,” she whispered.

Alaric cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a tear. “I’ll tear the city apart if I have to.”

She closed her eyes, letting out a heart broken sob.

She turned her face to the window, watching the city lights flicker outside. Somewhere out there, her children were alone, afraid, and she couldn’t reach them. The helplessness pressed on her chest like a weight she couldn’t lift.

The sedative took hold moments later. Her body went limp in his arms, her head falling against his chest.

Alaric laid her in bed slowly and stood by the window, his phone vibrating in his hand. He answered quickly.

“Talk to me.”

On the other end, his head of security spoke in a low tone. “We traced the van. It was abandoned at the harbor an hour after the incident. The trail goes cold there. Whoever’s behind this has resources and connections. This wasn’t random, it was planned.”

Alaric’s fingers tightened around the phone. “Keep digging. Call in everyone we have. Don’t spare any resources. No excuses.”

He hung up, his reflection staring back at him in the glass—eyes hard, jaw set. Then he turned to look at Annie again.

She had fallen asleep, her hand still clutching the corner of her blanket as if it were something precious. Even in rest, her face looked haunted.

He moved closer, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “I’ll find them,” he murmured under his breath, his voice low and steady. “No one takes what’s mine.”

Outside, the night deepened, and the city lights blurred against the dark.

But somewhere in that same city, a pair of small hearts beat quietly in fear—and the echo of Annie’s scream still lingered in the air, unanswered.

Because sometimes, even the strongest fall silent when love is taken from them.
And for Annie Yin, that silence was the beginning of war.

The room went silent except for the slow, steady beeping of the monitor. The doctor nodded, checking her pulse. “She needs rest. Keep her calm when she wakes up. Too much stress could be dangerous.”

Alaric barely heard him. He was staring at Annie’s still face, his hand brushing the damp strands of hair from her forehead.

The scent of hospital antiseptic filled the room, but beneath it, he could still smell her—warm, familiar, fragile.

He sat there long after the doctors left, his elbows on his knees, his hands covering his face.

He had seen her angry before. He had seen her in pain. But this… this was different. This was her soul breaking apart in front of him.

And whoever did this—whoever dared touch what was his—had just declared war.

He pulled out his phone, his voice low and steady when he spoke. “Find them. Every man, every resource, every contact. I don’t care what it costs.”