Chapter 3 THE NIGHT I SAVED DARLINGTON CROSS

Elara POV

There are nights that feel like dreams-soft, misty, the kind you forget the moment you wake.

But that night wasn't a dream.

That night etched itself into me, like something carved with a dull, shaking blade.

I didn't remember it all at once. That's the thing about fear you held in for too long, it doesn't just arrive in clear frames. It leaks in slowly, one cold shiver at a time. A scent. A sound. A slip of a memory behind closed eyelids.

Tonight, though-tonight it came flooding back in a way I couldn't stop.

The hospital was quiet after my last shift, unusually so. I had stayed behind longer than I should have, finishing reports and prepping files. I thought keeping busy would silence the storm in my chest. It didn't.

The moment I stepped out into the parking lot, the silence hit me differently. It wasn't peaceful. It was loud. A heavy, crushing kind of quiet that presses on your ears and makes your instincts twitch. I hesitated next to my car, the weight of exhaustion pulling at me-but something in the air shifted.

I stood there, keys in hand, heart tapping against my ribs like it wanted out.

And then-just like that-I remembered.

I remembered the streetlight flickering overhead as I pressed down on his wound. I remembered how sticky his blood was, how warm his skin felt beneath my trembling palms. I remembered how his breath rattled like broken glass and how I had whispered, over and over, "Stay with me, stay with me, you're going to be okay."

But most of all, I remembered the voice.

I never told anyone this part-not even Rachel. That night, I had heard my father's voice.

A voice I hadn't heard in nearly fifteen years.

"The body isn't there."

It hadn't come from inside my head. It had been real. Close. Just as I was trying to keep the bleeding man alive, just as I was trying to be a doctor and not a terrified daughter, I heard my father's voice on the wind-cool, sharp, and laced with disgust.

And he wasn't alone.

There was another man with him, his voice low and unfamiliar. They were arguing, just out of sight, but close enough that I felt their presence crawling along my skin.

I remember glancing up, startled, just in time to see two shadows cross the street. My father-yes, I know it was him-stood with his back straight, wearing that same arrogant stillness I remembered as a child. The other man was bulkier, dressed in all black. They didn't see me. Or if they did, they didn't care.

They were talking in clipped, coded phrases.

"No, someone had interfered."

"He wasn't supposed to make it."

"Clean up quietly. No names."

I froze.

The man lying on the ground-Darlington Cross-I hadn't known who he was then. Not really. I just knew he was bleeding too fast, and dying even faster. That's all that mattered to me in the moment. But the way they talked about him...

They weren't here to check who it was. They were here to make sure he didn't survive.

That realization hit me like a slap to the face.

I remember crawling back slowly behind my car, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold onto the gauze I'd been pressing to his side. I peered over the edge, trying to keep breathing, trying not to sob out loud. God, I was so scared. My medical bag had fallen to the pavement, and my phone was in the front seat, just out of reach.

And then came the SUV.

Big. Black. Moving too quietly for a street like ours. It crept toward the scene with its lights off, the tires making barely a sound. My heart sank. My instincts screamed. Run, hide, don't move.

Two more men got out-clean-cut, expressionless, dressed in the kind of crisp suits that only scream danger when they're worn at night.

I could hear one of them mutter, "He's still alive? The boss won't like this."

And I couldn't breathe.

I held my breath as they walked toward Darlington's body-still unconscious, barely holding on. My palms were wet with his blood. I remember staring down at them, whispering silent apologies that I wasn't strong enough to save him. I thought they were going to finish him off right there in the middle of the street.

But then...

Something changed.

One of the men noticed the blood trail I left when I dragged him behind a trash bin. They followed it, step by step, getting closer to where I had hidden him.

I remember biting my lip so hard it bled, my entire body frozen in place.

Then, without warning, one of the suits turned and barked, "No sign of the woman. Pull back."

They left.

Just like that, my dad and the man turned around, got in the SUV, and disappeared into the night like ghosts.

I didn't move for a full minute.

And then I crawled out, shaking, practically choking on my own breath. I didn't think. I just ran. Grabbed my phone, called 911, and gave an anonymous tip. I used a disposable glove to wipe the handle of my medical bag. I threw my blood-stained coat in a dumpster two blocks away.

I went home as soon as I heard the paramedics arriving in a distance and got to my apartment and scrubbed my skin until it was raw.

And I buried the memory.

Until tonight.

The memory clawed its way back like it had been waiting in the dark all this time. I leaned against my car now, my keys clenched so tightly in my fist they left imprints in my skin. My breath came short and fast. My legs trembled.

Why was my father there that night?

Why were they after Darlington?

And why.. why did it still feel like someone was watching me?

I scanned the area in the parking lot again, half-expecting that same black SUV to pull up with its lights off, rolling silently toward me like death on wheels.

But there was nothing.

Just me and my pounding heart.

I got into my car, hands gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing anchoring me to this world.

And suddenly I knew-deep in my chest, deep in the bones of who I am-that this wasn't over.

Darlington Cross was supposed to die that night

And I wasn't supposed to remember any of it.

But I did.

And no matter how hard I tried to pretend otherwise...

I was in the middle of something far bigger than I ever imagined.

I leaned back in my seat and let the tears fall silently.

Because the truth I'd been trying to deny had finally caught up to me.

And if they ever found out I was the one who got in their way...

I wouldn't get a second chance.