Isabella's POV

I ran as fast as I could.

Not once did I look back.

It was as if the beating of my heart was a jackhammer between my ears, effectively drowning out all gasps and shouts from behind. My bare feet landed hard on the cold pavement as I sprinted past the huge cathedral doors, releasing myself into the busy streets of New York City.

I could hear them behind me—Damian's men.

Their footsteps heavy, full of power, cut through the shocked whispers surrounding me.

I pushed myself forward, weaving in and out of the crowds. My wedding dress felt like a tight cage on my legs. The silk clung to me, as if someone's hand held me back, not allowing me to run with every step I took.

Then I heard it-the unmistakable sound which made my bones turn cold and fearful:

"She is there somewhere."

I started immediately running again in the backways, sliding with a cramped shape between a pair of structures.

I only had seconds ahead.

I snatched up the heavy skirt of my dress and rent it upwards. The fabric ripped with a savage, jagged sound. I yanked off my veil and pearls, discarding anything that made me resemble a bride. I was left in the thin underlayer of my gown, a simple white slip clinging to my body beneath a sheen of sweat.

It all began to make sense now, why there was no trace of the crime I had witnessed. It was as though it never happened; like I didn’t watch my best friend die.

I had gone to report it the next morning. I knew I’d be next if I didn’t.

FLASHBACK…

The police station smelled of stale coffee and reams of paper. A police officer barely glanced in my direction as I burst through the door, my heart racing.

“I need to report a murder," I huffed, trying to catch my breath.

That got their attention right away.

A large officer named Detective Callahan led me to a chair. He had fatigued eyes, as though he had witnessed too much terrible stuff. "Start from the beginning," he said.

I told him all.

First, I told him how Eleanor and I had gone out for drinks, how we accidentally walked into a crime scene, how the killers chased us, and how Eleanor got shot right in front of me.

I told him how I barely managed to escape.

By the time I had finally finished, I was shaking all over. Callahan just looked at me with a very serious expression; then he too rose to his feet. "Let's go," he said.

Relief washed over me in that instant. He believed me.

But when we came to that alley where it all happened, the ground just seemed to have shifted under my feet.

Nothing was there.

The blood was gone. The bodies were gone. Even the casings that should have been on the ground from the bullets were gone.

I spun around, panic closing in my throat. "I swear, this is where it happened! Eleanor was right here!"

Callahan blew out a heavy sigh. "Miss Harrington, are you absolutely sure you weren't just. drunk?" he asked skeptically.

"No!" I shouted. "I know exactly what I saw!

He peered at me with a hint of skepticism. "Then where's your friend's family? Why hasn't anyone reported her missing yet?"

My heart suddenly dropped, and my mouth began to feel very dry. And then I recalled that Eleanor really had no family.

Her parents died when she was little; she had no siblings, nobody to come for her.

She had never lived.

My pulse roared in my ears. Someone had covered this up. Someone powerful.

Callahan sighed, jotting something in his notepad. “Look, we’ll file a missing person’s report, but without any evidence…”

I stood up sharply. “You’re not going to do anything, are you?”

Silence.

*FLASHBACK ENDS*

It was Damian Whitmore, and he was powerful enough to make every trace of his crime disappear.

I was alone now. The police couldn’t help me, they were loyal to him; my parents didn’t believe me, they only cared about their money.

I had to leave the city. But first, I had to make sure I wouldn’t get caught.

I leaned my back against the coarse, brick wall and heaved my chest, feeling the bitter taste of fear in my mouth.

Footsteps thundered by the alley.

They hadn't seen me.

Yet.

I held my breath as I counted each second until their voices faded into the noise of the city. Then I moved.

My heart still racing, I reached the main street, mingled with the tide of faces around me.

I was free.

For the moment.

*****

I had nothing on me but a few crumpled bills stuffed inside my bra. I didn't have any identification or credit cards.

And I really had nowhere to go.

I knew my parents would not protect me; they would just return me to Damian without giving it a second thought.

I needed to vanish into thin air.

I finally staggered into a bus station, my body shaking with exhaustion and fear. On the wall was a map showing a jumbled mess of cities and highways that I didn't recognize.

I knew I did not have time to make a detailed plan, and I had to get out of New York as soon as possible.

Just then, I saw a Greyhound bus was about to leave. I looked at its destination and saw it was headed for Ridgewood-a small city upstate. It wasn't too far away, but it was far enough to feel safe.

I paid the driver all the money I had on me in a hurry.

As the bus pulled out of the station, I took a deep breath and whispered the words that would become my new reality—

"My name is Lillian Hawthorne."