Sophia's POV

“Dylan?” The name escaped my lips before I could stop it.

He chuckled, low and cruel. “Did you really think you could run away from me, sweetheart?”

My heart lurched. Even after all this time, the sound of his laughter made my stomach twist. It carried the same mocking tone he used when he’d corner me and whisper apologies laced with venom after another night of anger.

“Go to hell, Dylan.”

I ended the call before he could respond.

For a moment, I just stood frozen on the sidewalk, clutching my phone as though it might explode. My hands were trembling so hard I almost dropped it. I quickly blocked the number, but my heart didn’t stop racing.

He has found my new number, which means he's not too far.

I scanned the street — the faces of people, and corners — half expecting to see him watching me from across the road. A chill crept over my skin despite the afternoon heat. My pulse drummed in my throat, and it felt like the ground beneath me might give way.

I started walking fast, my steps uneven, and my breath shallow. The city noises returned in fragments — snippets of laughter, an impatient car horn, the rumble of the train in the distance. I tried to calm my nerves.

It’s just a call, I told myself. He can’t hurt me anymore. But fear doesn’t care about logic. I could still see flashes of those nights — his hand gripping my wrist hard enough to bruise, the sound of glass shattering, his voice sharp as a blade. “You made me do this, Sophie.”

I escaped one night, running in the rain with a bleeding lip and a small bag of clothes while clutching my sister's hand. I thought changing my number and moving across the city would put him in the past forever. But Dylan was like a bad dream that finds new ways to follow you into the daylight.

My phone vibrated again.

I froze, terrified it would be him again. But then I saw the caller ID: St. Mary's General Hospital.

My heart stopped.

I answered instantly. “Hello?”

“Miss Bennett?” The male voice echoed from the other end.

“Yes,” I said quickly.

“This is Dr. Patterson from St. Mary's General. I’m calling regarding your sister, Eve Bennett.”

My chest tightened. “What happened?”

There was a pause, and I could almost hear the doctor’s sigh. “I’m afraid it’s serious. Eve slipped into a coma earlier today. Her condition has deteriorated faster than we expected.”

The words slammed into me like a physical blow. “A coma?”

“Yes,” he said gently. “She needs the surgery urgently, Miss Bennett. Without it, I’m afraid she won’t last longer than two weeks.”

I couldn’t speak. My mind went blank, my body suddenly became numb.

Two weeks.

A sob tore from my throat, raw and broken. I pressed a shaking hand against my mouth, but the tears came anyway. My knees weakened, and I had to grab onto a nearby railing to keep from collapsing.

I heard the doctor’s voice faintly through the phone. “Miss Bennett, are you still there?”

“I—yes,” I choked out. “I’m coming right now.”

I hung up and ran. The hospital is just a few blocks away.

The city blurred around me — flashing lights, passing cars, the sharp wind biting at my face. My lungs burned, but I didn’t stop. The hospital’s glass doors slid open just as I stumbled inside, breathless and trembling.

The scent of antiseptic and the bright fluorescent lights hit me hard.

“Miss Bennett?” a nurse called out. “Dr. Patterson is waiting for you in the ICU.”

I followed her down the long corridor, my shoes squeaking against the polished floor. Each step felt heavier than the last.

When I finally saw Eve — lying still under the hospital sheets with tubes poked into her fragile body — my heart shattered all over again. Her face was pale, her lips colorless. She looked so small and breakable.

I walked closer, every breath catching in my throat.

“Eve…” My voice cracked.

Dr. Patterson placed a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve done everything we can for now. But her organs are under immense strain. The surgery is her only chance.”

“How much?” I whispered, though I already knew the answer. I've seen that figure too many times on the paperwork. The figure that haunted me every time I looked at my sister.

“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” he said quietly. “We’ll need to move fast if we’re to schedule it in time.”

I nodded, even as the room tilted slightly.

I have exactly one million dollars coming my way now if the pregnancy succeeds. And I pray to whoever controls the universe that it does. My sister's life depends on it.

I bit my lip, staring at Eve’s still face. “I’ll bring the money next week,” I said fiercely.

I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against her hand. The tears just kept pouring. “Just hold on, Eve. Please. Don’t leave me.”

The monitor beeped steadily beside her, each sound felt like a reminder that time was running out.

When I finally left her room, my body was exhausted, but my mind wouldn’t stop racing.

The memory of Dylan’s voice returned, like a haunting refrain. “Did you really think you could run away from me, sweetheart?” And now, layered over it, the doctor’s voice: She won’t last longer than two weeks.

Fear and desperation collided in my chest until it hurt to breathe. By the time I reached the waiting area, I was shaking uncontrollably. I sank into a chair, staring at nothing, I gripped my knees to keep myself from falling apart.

My phone buzzed again.

A text from an unknown number.

My thumb hovered over the screen, dread curling in my stomach. I opened the message; “You can block my number, Sophie. But you can’t hide forever.”

My whole body went cold.

I wanted to scream and throw the phone across the room. I closed my eyes, fighting back tears as I whispered to myself, “You won’t win, Dylan. Not this time.”

I made a promise to save my sister, no matter what it cost me. And I have to stay here to fulfill that promise.

No more running.