Chapter 48: SHE WAS ALIVE

The first thing she noticed was the sound. Not voices, not footsteps, not even machines.

But the sound of her breath—fragile, rattling, pulling life into lungs that felt heavier than her memories.

Then came the light.

It wasn’t blinding. Just there. Like someone cracked the door to a room she hadn’t been in for years. It touched her eyelids delicately, as if asking for permission to enter.

Anise groaned.

The effort alone felt like she’d moved mountains. Her throat was dry—no, scorched. Her tongue was thick, and her limbs were bricks.

Pain arrived slowly, stretching itself out across her body like it had been waiting its turn. Her ribs ached, her wrists burned, and a dull throb pulsed behind her eyes like a war drum.

She opened them.

Once.

Then again.

The second time, everything hit her.

She was alive.

White ceiling, IV drip, Monitors blinking in soft, mechanical rhythm. Clean linens. The muted smell of antiseptic. Safety or something like it.

She blinked again, this time with more purpose. The memory came rushing back—not in full, but in flashes. They were Screams, Running, Gunmetal. The heavy breath of a man behind her. The bag over her head. Wesley Grant’s cold eyes said, You again?

Then a voice—firm, female—“It’s her.”

A flash of red and blue. Chaos. Someone was shouting her name. Jake?

Anise jolted, but her body didn’t let her sit up. A groan slipped from her mouth as pain roared back like an old enemy.

The door creaked open.

“Anise?” The voice was gentle, uncertain, but unmistakable.

Dexton.

She turned her head slowly, too slowly, to see her twin standing in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame like he didn’t trust himself to move.

She tried to smile. It was more of a twitch.

“You’re here,” she rasped.

He moved. One step, two, then he crossed the room in a blur, falling to his knees beside her bed. He didn’t touch her right away. Just looked at her like she was glass. Cracked but precious.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he said, voice shaking.

“You look like hell,” she whispered.

A tear rolled down his cheek. “You sound worse.”

She managed a small, hoarse laugh. It hurt like hell, but it was real.

Dexton carefully took her hand, and she felt the warmth of home. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Time existed only in the way their fingers tightened together.

Then the door opened again.

The first face she saw was Ally’s. Her hair was messy, her eyeliner slightly smudged, but her smile was like the sun cracking through storm clouds.

“Look who’s finally back,” Ally whispered, tiptoeing closer with a bouquet of white lilies and sunflowers. “You scared the living hell out of us, girllll.”

Behind her, Kevin followed with a silent nod, his jaw tight but his eyes brimming with unspoken emotion. Lucas came last, carrying a ridiculous assortment of pink roses and chocolates, clearly overcompensating, but looking like he hadn’t slept in days.

“I picked the flowers,” Lucas said quickly, holding them up. “I figured, you know, something bright. You’ve had enough of dark places.”

Anise gave them a weak smile. She tried to speak, but her throat rasped too dry. Kelvin poured a cup of water and carefully helped her sip.

No one rushed. No one bombarded her with questions. They just stood there, surrounding her with warmth she hadn’t realized she needed this badly. For a moment, she simply let herself exist in it—safe, seen, surrounded by people who cared.

A knock interrupted the silence. Ally stood and pressed a kiss to Anise’s forehead. “We’ll come back. Just rest, okay?”

Kevin squeezed her hand, and Lucas gave a crooked half-smile before following the others out. The door closed behind them with a soft click.

And then it opened again.

Jake stood there—no badge, no professional mask, no rehearsed words,Just him. His eyes locked on hers like they hadn’t since that night in her room. He was holding nothing. no gifts, no flowers...Only regret.

He walked in, slow and unsure, and stopped a few feet from her bed.

“You’re awake,” he said softly.

Anise nodded once.

A silence thicker than the hospital air stretched between them.

“I didn’t know,” he murmured. “When you didn’t reply, I thought you were mad or tired Or... I don’t know. I didn’t think—”

She looked away. “I screamed for you.”

Jake’s throat tightened visibly. “I know.”

“No,” she said, her voice breaking. “You don’t. I screamed for you in the dark, in the cold. I waited, Jake. I thought you’d come. I did.”

He stepped closer, like every inch was costing him something. “If I could undo it—”

“But you can’t,” she whispered.

Jake nodded slowly. “You’re right. I can’t. But I’m here now.”

“That’s not the same.”

His jaw clenched. “I know I didn’t give you enough reason to trust me. I was too slow and oo distracted. I thought I had more time.”

Anise turned to face him fully. “What took you so long?”

He didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t know how to.

She looked away, the dam behind her eyes cracking but not breaking. “I’m tired.”

“I’ll go.”

Jake took a step back.

“But you should know,” she said, her voice almost too soft to hear, “I didn’t stop thinking about you. Not once.”

He froze.

“I saw your face before I blacked out. I heard your voice when everything else went quiet.”

Jake stepped forward again, tentative. “Anise...”

“But thinking about you,” she whispered, “and depending on you... Those are two different things now.”

This time, he nodded. “Let me earn it back. However long it takes.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. She didn’t wipe it.

He turned to leave.

“Jake?”

He paused.

“Thanks for coming,” she said.

“I always will,” he replied, then walked out the door and closed it softly behind him.