Elena's pov

I pressed my head to the velvet foam of the armchair, listening to Damian’s heavy footsteps retreat down the silent hallway. A moment later, I heard footsteps approaching the door. Then a dinner tray and a bundle of clothes were slid quickly under the door.

The scent of warm soup hit me, but I ignored it. The clothes were a simple pair of soft, grey cotton. They were useless for escape. The tray held a bowl of soup, slices of bread and a glass of water.

I knew I had to escape. I felt I could not take the torture and pain anymore. I stood up. I needed to make Damian and his men believe that the risk of leaving me in this room was greater than the risk of opening the door.

My eyes landed on the heavy, carved mahogany bedside table. It was the kind that weighed a ton. I slowly approached the table as I was still in pain. I grabbed the corner and gritted my teeth as I lifted it off the floor.

I wrapped my fingers tightly around the sharp edge and threw the table to the floor. The table tipped and hit with a sound that felt like a gunshot. I drew a deep breath and then a high-pitched, desperate scream tore out of me, followed by ragged, choked sobs.

Then I heard fast, heavy footsteps pounding down the marble corridor. It sounded like one person.

“I’m on the third floor. Confirmed to be Elena screaming.” a muffled voice said into a radio.

I quickly fell to the floor, backing toward the door. I pressed my face to the carpet, feigning unconsciousness and forcing my breaths to come in small, shallow gasps.

The door flew open with a gust of air.

“What the hell happened here?” a man’s alarmed voice broke off.

That was my chance. I shoved myself off the floor, launching into a low tackle. I aimed directly for the man’s legs. I did not care what it would do to me only that this was my closest chance at freedom.

My shoulder slammed into his knees. He went down hard with a surprised grunt, his head hitting the floor outside the room with a thud. I did not pause. I scrambled over the downed man and flew down the staircase, ignoring the way my legs burned and my lungs ached. The main foyer was empty, leading straight to the front doors. But I could hear the guards’ boots closing in behind me.

I smashed into the front door. For just a moment, I felt released.

The driveway stretched long and curving. I could not risk being seen on the road. I glanced up at a window on the second floor and saw Damian’s hardened face staring darkly at me.

My heart dropped into my stomach, but I could not stop now. I veered left, plunging into the thick shrubbery surrounding the estate, tearing my skin on thorns and branches.

“She’s in the trees. Don’t let her reach the fence.” a guard shouted.

I kept running until I heard the sound of cars driving. I almost collided with the high fenced wall but stopped myself in time.

It was too high for me to climb. I looked around, finding nothing to help elevate me. I exhaled sharply, feeling weak already, but I could not give up not now.

An idea came to my mind. I went back into the shrubbery and ran, pushing myself faster despite the pain. I raised my feet to the wall, pushing myself upward and dropping my hands onto the top of the fence. I groaned in pain as I forced myself over, landing hard on the pavement on the other side. My ankle twisted with a sharp jolt of pain, but I pushed myself forward, desperate to reach the other side of the road.

I did not see the car. I only saw the flash of metal and light, and I heard the screech of tires right before the impact.

Then it hit me it felt like being struck by a train. My body flew through the air and slammed onto the road with crushing force.

I tried to force my eyes to stay open, but unconsciousness overpowered me.

The first thing I registered was the smell of antiseptic. The second was the sound of a constant beep. I gradually opened my eyes, and everything was white. The walls and ceiling were white. I was entangled in a white sheet.

I looked at my arm and saw a thin tube running from it to a clear bag hanging overhead. Then I realized I was in a hospital. I tried to move, but a jolt of pain in my ribs stopped me. My head felt heavy, wrapped in thick bandages.

The door creaked open. A young woman in blue scrubs stepped in, smiling gently. “Oh, you’re awake. That’s wonderful. I’ll get the doctor right away.”

“Wait.” My voice was raspy. “Where am I?”

The nurse paused, her smile faltering slightly. “You’re at St. Jude’s, honey. You were in an accident.”

“An accident,” I repeated. I tried to pull up the memory, but nothing came. My mind was a blank slate. I looked at my hands; they were pale and small.

“Who am I? What’s my name?”

The nurse’s eyes widened. She rushed to my side, her demeanor shifting from calm professionalism to alert concern.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” she said softly, reaching for the call button. “That’s normal after a bad concussion. We call that transient amnesia. You took quite a blow to the head.”

“Amnesia.” I whispered the word.

The nurse leaned in, her voice low. “Don’t stress. We know your name is Helena.” She paused, checking her chart. “And you were admitted after you had an accident. You were brought in by the driver, but we’ve been trying to find your next of kin. We haven’t had any luck yet. Just focus on resting now.”

The door opened again, and a man in a white coat strode in, followed by a tall, stern police officer in uniform. The police officer looked directly at me, his face grim.

“Helena, I’m Detective Miller,” the officer said. “We need to ask you some questions about the accident and the events leading up to it. Can you confirm your name for us?”

I looked at his face. I looked at the doctor. I looked back at the name the nurse had given me.

“I don’t know.” I mumbled, shaking my head slightly and wincing at the pull in my neck. “I don’t remember anything.”