CHAPTER THREE:THE GHOST

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound pulled me out of nothing. Somewhere between sleep and death, where the world had no shape, no light, no reason.

White. Bright, cruel white.The room felt all wrong, like it was moving. I didn’t know which way was up. My chest hurt so much, it burned with every breath.Every heartbeat felt like it might break me completely.

I tried to move. My body refused. Tubes curled around my arms. Machines sang their endless digital dirge. A plastic mask pressed against my face. I was trapped inside myself.

“Aurora?”

A woman’s voice pulled me back,soft and professional. “Can you hear me? You’re in the hospital. You’re safe now.”

Safe.

The word made me want to laugh, but my throat had turned to sand. Safe? That was what I thought I had when Adrian slipped that ring on my finger three weeks ago. Forever.

And then the memory hit.

Adrian. The gun. That look in his eyes just before…

“Ma’am, your heart rate is rising. I need you to stay calm.”

Calm?The man I loved,the man who was supposed to love me,had shot me. Because of a stupid childhood locket. Because he thought I’d betrayed him over something I couldn’t even explain.

How on earth was I supposed to stay calm?

“She’s waking up more,” the nurse said, distracted, like she didn’t want to scare anyone. “Aurora, you’ve been unconscious for three days. You’re at Mercy General. You’re going to be okay.”

Three days. Three days gone. While I was lying here, clawing for every breath, Adrian was probably out there pretending, smiling, telling the world his perfect little lies.

I croaked, barely: “Water.”

“Small sips,” she said, pressing a cup to my lips. Metal and medicine. But it was heaven.

Marcus came that afternoon. I heard his voice before I saw him shouting at the front desk about visiting hours. Then he was there, filling the doorway with his messy hair and worried eyes.

“Oh my God” he whispered, pulling a chair close to my bed. “Aurora. I thought…”

His voice broke. Marcus never cried. Not when we were kids. He was always the tough one, the boy who never showed weakness. But sitting there looking at me, tears rolled down his face like he couldn't stop them.

“Hey,” I teased. “Don’t cry. Makes your face all ugly.”

He laughed, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Shut up. You look like death warmed over.”

“Feel like it too,” I muttered.

We sat in silence. Him crying. Me trying to figure out how I was still alive. The machines beeped. Nurses came and went. And somewhere in the world, the girl who believed in fairy tales, in happily-ever-afters… she was dead.

“What happened?” Marcus asked finally. “The cops said a break-in, but nothing makes sense. Your apartment wasn’t trashed. Nothing was stolen.”

I looked at him, my childhood friend, the one who had always been there,who had never hurt me or lied to me, and my throat went dry. I couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t tell him the truth. That the man I loved had tried to kill me.

“It happened fast,” I whispered. “I didn’t see his face.”

He didn’t believe me. “Bullshit. Aurora, this is me. What really happened?”

“I don’t remember much。” I lied. Bitter. Pain. Darkness. Nothing else.

The cops came later. Two detectives, bored and tired, scribbling on notepads. Did I know anyone who wanted to hurt me? No. Threats? None. Anything missing? No. They left, promising to investigate, but I saw it in their eyes,they already thought the case was cold. Another victim in a city full of violence.

If only they knew the truth. That Adrian was probably at his office right now, playing the devastated fiancé for the cameras.

That evening Dr.Martinez walked in with news I wasn't ready for.

“You’re pregnant,” he said. “About twelve weeks.”

Pregnant?With Adrian’s baby?

The words didn’t fit. Didn’t belong. My chest tightened. The fire inside me roared louder.

“The baby is fine. More than fine,” the doctor continued. “It’s a miracle.”

A miracle.

I looked at Marcus. His face went pale as he realized what I had just heard. Adrian's baby. Growing inside me. While his bullet had tried to end us both.

I pressed my hand to my stomach. To this tiny life that had survived.

“How?” I whispered. “How am I alive? How did anyone find me?”

He looked away. “Mrs. Brown heard the shot. Called 911. You were barely holding on. You’d lost so much blood…”

Mrs. Brown. My cranky old neighbor who smelled like cats and hated my music. She’d saved my life.

“Your heart… the bullet missed it by an inch. Lung punctured. Ribs broken. But you’re here,” Marcus said softly.

One inch. That’s all that stood between death and life. Between Adrian getting away with murder and me sitting here, planning my revenge.

The TV caught my eye. News. And there he was. My Adrian, golden and broken, tears streaming down his perfect face.

“Turn it up,” I croaked.

Marcus obeyed. And suddenly, his voice filled the room. That voice that used to hum love songs in my ear,now performing grief for everyone to see.

I can't believe someone would hurt Aurora," he said, his voice shaking. "She's the kindest person I know. We were supposed to get married next spring..."

The reporter cut in with updates about the investigation, about how police had no leads, about how the fiancé of billionaire CEO Adrian Thorne remained in critical condition.

Then Adrian was back on screen, looking like a man whose world had ended.

"I just want her to wake up," he sobbed. "I want to tell her I love her. I can't lose her - she's everything to me."

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and I remembered how that same hand had held a gun. How those same fingers had pulled the trigger without shaking.

"The Thorne family is offering a million-dollar reward for information about Aurora's attacker," the reporter said.

A million dollars. He was offering a million dollars to catch himself.

Marcus looked at me. “Poor guy. He really loves you.”

I wanted to scream. To shake him. To tell him the truth: He’s not grieving,he’s celebrating.. Every tear was theater, every word a lie.

But who would believe me? Aurora Winters against Adrian Thorne? I’d be locked up before anyone listened.

The news switched to sports, but Adrian's performance kept echoing in my head. The way he'd looked at the camera with those wounded eyes, playing the heartbroken lover while the whole world ate it up.

He was good. Better than I'd ever imagined.

And somewhere out there, he probably thought he'd won. That Aurora Winters would die quietly in this hospital bed, taking his secrets with her.

But Aurora Winters was already dead.

And in her place, something else was stirring. Harder. Angrier. Smarter. Someone who is going to pay for every lie,every tear,every second of this performance.

I pressed my hand to my belly,where his child was growing.

“Mama’s gonna keep us safe,” I whispered. “And daddy… he’s going to pay for what he did to us.”

The machines beeped on. My heart burned. But for the first time since I'd woken up, I wasn’t afraid.

I was planning.