She opens her eyes.
And everything hurts.
She doesn't know where she is. She doesn't know what happened.
Only white. Lights. Shadows moving.
—Elizabeth?
Her mother's voice. Close. Too close.
She blinks.
Attempts to focus.
—…?
Her own voice comes out raspy. As if she hadn't used it in days.
—Thank goodness —her father says, sounding more relieved than worried—. She's finally awake.
She tries to move. Something hurts in her chest. Something pulls at her arm.
—Don't move —a nurse says.
But her mother isn't looking at her. She's looking at her father. And her father is looking at someone else.
Someone standing in the back.
She tries to turn her head. It's hard. Everything is hard.
But she manages to see him.
A stranger. Pale skin. Black hair. Blue eyes.
And a gaze… cold. Far too cold.
She doesn't know him. She doesn't know who he is.
But he looks at her as if he has known her for years.
—Elizabeth —her mother's voice sounds again, harder this time—. Do you realize what you've done?
She blinks.
She doesn't understand.
—Going out alone at those hours —her father interrupts—. Crossing the street without looking. Who do you think you are?
She wants to answer. Wants to say she doesn't remember. That it wasn't her fault. That she was only running away.
But the words won't come out.
—You could have killed yourself —her mother adds, sounding like a reproach, not fear—. And we… we would have been the ones to pay the consequences.
Consequences.
That's what they care about. The consequences.
Not her. Never her.
—Enough —says a deep voice.
Calm. Steady. Firm.
The stranger takes a step forward.
The parents fall silent instantly.
He looks at her. She can't look away.
—Don't pressure her —he says, without looking at the parents—. She just woke up.
Her mother lowers her gaze. Her father crosses his arms. Neither of them responds.
He steps a little closer. But not too much. He doesn't invade her space.
He stays at a distance that almost seems respectful.
—My name is Noah —he says—. We'll introduce ourselves properly when you're better.
She frowns.
She doesn't understand.
—Wh…?
—Shh —he shakes his head—. Not now. Rest.
But the exhaustion weighs more. And her eyelids fall.
Before she can close them completely, she hears footsteps. Someone enters the room.
—Doctor —Noah says—. Can you check her?
The doctor nods and approaches. He checks her pupils. Listens to her chest. Looks at the monitors.
—She's stable —he says—. But we'll need her to spend one more night under observation.
—One night? —her mother asks.
—Yes. We'll run some tests. Depending on the results, she can leave tomorrow.
She tries to protest. She doesn't want to stay. Doesn't want to be there. Doesn't want to keep listening to them.
But the doctor is already talking to Noah. As if he were the one in charge.
—Tomorrow, after the tests, we'll know more.
Noah nods.
He looks at her.
—Once the tests are finished —he says slowly—, if everything goes well… you're coming with me.
She opens her mouth to ask. To say something.
But he doesn't let her finish.
—I'll be here early tomorrow —he says, his voice allowing no argument—. Rest.
He turns toward Kaly, who is still at the door, not knowing what to do.
He looks at her. A second. Nothing more.
Then he leaves.
He just leaves.
The door closes behind him.
The echo of his footsteps fades in the hallway.
Eli stares at the empty frame.
Not knowing what to do. Not knowing what to feel.
—What a scare you gave us —her mother says, her voice sharp, as if she just remembered she had to say it.
She hadn't even realized they were still there.
Her father is behind, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. He doesn't look at her. He looks at the floor.
—Do you realize what you've done? —her mother insists—. Crossing the street like that, at those hours…
—Enough, Mom —she tries to say, but her voice barely comes out.
—This is going to be incredibly expensive —her father cuts in—. The hospital, the doctors, the tests…
The words pierce her chest.
Because it's not worry. It's money.
A hot tear slides down her cheek.
Kaly sees it.
She takes a step forward.
—Mr. and Mrs. Anderson… —she begins, her voice trembling—. She just woke up, can't you…
—Stay out of this —he interrupts—. This is family business.
Kaly goes quiet.
She doesn't know what to say.
She only looks at Eli. And those tears that won't stop.
Her mother sighs.
—Well —she says, looking at her husband—. We're leaving.
—Already? —Kaly asks.
—We have things to do —he responds—. Stay with her if you want.
They leave.
The door closes.
Kaly stands still for a second. Listens to the footsteps fading away. Then, silence.
She approaches the bed slowly. Sits on the edge. Takes her hand.
—How are you feeling? —she asks.
Eli doesn't answer.
She just turns her face toward the wall. And cries.
In silence.
Kaly doesn't let go of her hand. She doesn't know if it helps. But she stays.
Only a few minutes passed, but for her, it was more than enough to feel a weight lift from her chest.
Her parents' attitude, though not surprising, hurt her. But Kaly always made her feel better.
—Kaly? —her voice comes out broken.
—Tell me —she responds instantly.
—Who was he?
Kaly tenses. Eli feels it in her fingers, in the way they squeeze a little tighter.
—I don't know —she admits—. But he introduced himself as your fiancé.
Eli blinks.
She thinks she misheard.
—What?
—He said he was your fiancé —Kaly repeats—. And he had papers, Eli. Documents. Signed by your parents.
The words don't sink in.
They stay on the surface of her skin, like drops of water on glass.
—My parents… —she starts, but doesn't know how to finish the sentence.
—You saw them —Kaly says—. How they greeted him. How they listened to him.
Eli closes her eyes.
Tries to think. Tries to find an explanation.
And then she remembers.
The night of the accident.
The stairs.
The kitchen.
The low voices of her parents.
"I've spoken to them. It's all settled."
"It's exactly what we needed."
"Selling our daughter was the best decision we've ever made."
She snaps her eyes open.
Her breath hitches.
—They… —her voice trembles, but doesn't break—. They sold me.
Kaly frowns.
—What are you saying?
—I heard them —she whispers, and the words come out like knives—. The night of the accident. They were in the kitchen. Talking about money. Papers. Me.
The silence grows thicker.
Kaly looks at her, not knowing what to say.
—Are you sure? —she asks at last.
Eli nods.
Slowly.
As if the gesture itself costs her her life.
—That's why I ran —she says—. That's why I didn't look before crossing. I just wanted to flee.
The tears fall again.
But this time, they aren't from sadness.
They are from rage.
—That man… —Kaly presses her lips together—. Noah. He is the buyer.
They both know it now.
There's no need to say it out loud.
Eli squeezes the sheets between her fists.
—I am not going with him —she says, and this time her voice sounds stronger.
—And what are you going to do? —Kaly asks.
Eli doesn't answer.
Not because she won't.
But because she doesn't know