ASHAL
The first thing I feel is the sound of my own pulse drumming fast and erratic in my ears as I pace the floor of Maddi’s family ho. My palms are clammy and my throat is dry. I call Maddi’s phone again, praying she’ll pick up this ti. Her voice mail cuts in, bright and chipper and so wildly inappropriate for this mont that I nearly fling my phone at the wall.
"Damn it, Maddi, where are you?" I mutter, dragging my hand through my hair. Where else could she be?
Her parents had sounded bewildered, blindsided even, when I rang their house. Mrs. Dunn’s voice cracked as she repeated it back to , "She hasn’t been here. She hasn’t called us." Mr. Dunn wrestled the phone from her, insisting in his steady baritone that Maddi was a grown woman, that she’d show up soon and that panicking wouldn’t help. But I heard the tremor in his voice too.
They just lost one daughter, and now the surviving child is missing.
Maddi is missing!
The word echoes like a gunshot in my head. I dial her again but it goes straight to voicemail. Beside , her parents try to contain their emotions.
I know they have a million questions to ask , to yell in my face but instead, they sob quietly. I had promised to take care of their daughter after the traumatic event. I had insisted on taking Maddi to the mansion from the hospital, making tall claims of better security and care. Now, she’s missing and her parents are right back where they left off at the hospital; in tears.
Enough. I can’t wait for my guys any longer. Maddi needs to be found before sothing bad happens to her.
I grab the house phone, my thumb hovering over the police hotline. The thought of them filing a report, plastering Maddi’s na across systems, stations, maybe even news outlets, hits in the gut. But what other option do I have? She is fragile, still recovering and still carrying wounds that don’t heal with stitches.
My phone buzzes, stopping mid-dial. I hastily take the call.
"Sir."
It’s one of the n I sent out earlier to comb the city for Maddi. His voice is clipped and formal as always. But there’s sothing in the timbre that makes my chest tighten before he even says it.
"We found her. She’s at the hospital."
My knees nearly give out. "The hospital?" Behind , Mr. and Mrs. Dunn leap to their feet and flank beside .
"Yes, sir. She is here."
"Is she hurt? What’s going on?"
"No. She’s just...standing outside the NICU."
My heart races as I snatch up my keys and sprint out the door before I can think.
***
The drive to the hospital is a blur past streaks of light and wet asphalt. The sky has broken open, rain slashing against the windshield in silver sheets. My wipers furiously screech over them. I lean forward, hands clenched so tight around the wheel my knuckles ache. I don’t care. All I can picture is Maddi at the hospital. Why did she go there? I hope she isn’t hurt.
By the ti I shove through the sliding doors of the hospital, the sterile scent of antiseptic slams into , mixing with the low hum of machines and the quiet shuffle of nurses at their stations.
I make a beeline for the NICU, and then I see her.
Maddi is standing outside the window; her hand pressed to the glass. Inside, the tiny bundle that is our child sleeps beneath glowing lights, so small and impossibly delicate. Maddi’s eyes are glued to the baby. She stares as if nothing else exists, her whole body suspended in that fragile mont.
"Maddi." My voice cracks as I say her na.
She doesn’t move or blink.
I step closer as relief floods my chest. She’s here. She is here. She is safe. I want nothing more than to crush her into my chest and breathe her in, to hold her until the tremors in stop.
I reach for her arm, gently. "You scared the life out of . I thought—God, I thought—"
She cranes her neck and locks eyes with for the first ti. Her next move shocks . Maddi jerks her arm away like my touch burns. Slowly, she turns towards , and I get a full glimpse of her face. Her cheeks are wet with tears but her eyes are ablaze with fury.
The relief inside fizzles away as a sudden cold creeps in.
"Maddi," I whisper, reaching again, but she takes a sharp step back.
"No." Her voice is raw, shredded by crying. She pushes past , the heels of her flats silent against the polished floor.
I spin and follow as my heart starts hamring. "Wait. Please, wait."
She moves fast but by the way her shoulders shake, I can tell the tears haven’t stopped. I chase her down the corridor until, finally, she stops dead. Her back is rigid and her fists are clenched at her sides.
When she turns to , the pain on her face almost guts .
"How could you?" she spits, her voice breaking. "How could you look in the eye all this ti and lie to about my sister?"
I feel the world tilt. Steadying myself, I struggle to find the right words. How did she find out if her parents didn’t tell her about Liv? Did my mother do this? My mind whirls till it finally returns to Madeline’s pained expression.
I swallow hard. "Maddi..."
Her tears spill faster now, streaking down her face. She clutches her chest like her heart might burst open. "After everything, Ashal. After everything Liv and I went through? You—of all people—you are the last person I expected to hide the truth from ."
The air constricts in my lungs. "I never wanted to hurt you, Maddi. I swear I wanted to tell you but you were... you were barely holding yourself together. How could I destroy you with the truth when you were fighting so hard to survive? There was never a right mont, Maddi. I couldn’t find one."
Her laugh is jagged and bitter. "There will never be a right mont to tell soone their sister is gone but you should have told anyway. Do you know how much I suffered thinking she hadn’t made it? Do you have any idea what that silence did to ?"
I blink, confusion stabbing through . "Maddi... what are you saying?"
She wipes at her cheeks with shaking hands, though more tears follow instantly. "I thought Liv was dead and you wouldn’t tell . I was so scared I would have to teach myself to breathe and live without her, that I had to learn to wake up every day knowing I’d never see her face or hear her voice. Do you understand how much that broke ? But if you had told she was alive... if you had told she was out there sowhere, I could have survived on that just knowing she was okay."
Alive? She’s got it all wrong.
"Maddi," I say carefully, stepping closer. "No. She didn’t make it. The poison killed her. Olivia... she’s gone."
Her face crumples with utter shock, but then hardens with fury in the sa instant. She stares at like I just spit venom in her face.
"You’re lying," she hisses. Then, before I can defend myself, her hand smacks my cheek. The sting blossoms instantly, but it’s nothing compared to the dagger in her voice. "How dare you! How dare you say that about Olivia."
"Maddi—"
"You hate her so much you want her dead, is that it? You are cruel. You are selfish and cruel!" Her voice echoes down the hall, trembling with grief. "She gave you that beautiful baby in there. She gave you her youth and her life before that. She gave you everything, and you... you have the guts to wish my sister gone? Is that your love, Ashal?"
I flinch, breathless. "That’s not what I—"
"I don’t want to hear it," she cuts off, shaking her head so hard her hair clings to her damp cheeks. "Now it makes sense. Now I understand why she chose to stay away from you and only dares to co see her own baby in disguise. I would fake my own death if I were in her shoes too."
My blood runs cold. "What did you just say?"
Maddi glares at , trembling, her chest heaving with sobs. "She was here. I saw her. She wore a nurse’s uniform, but you think I wouldn’t know my own sister? I would recognize her anywhere. Her walk, her shoulders, her shape. She ca to see her baby in a disguise and now I know why. Maybe her life truly is in danger if her ex-husband’s already proclaiming her death."
I stare at her, my heart in freefall. "Maddi... you must have been mistaken."
Her eyes blaze hotter. "I know my sister. Don’t you dare try to gaslight . She is alive. She was here and she clearly wants nothing to do with you."
My hands shake as I reach for her again, but she backs away. "Okay. Okay, Liv is alive but did you at least see her face, talk to her? What did she say?"
Maddi blinks. "I couldn’t catch up to her. She left in a hurry."
I want to tell her she was mistaken and she might have been hallucinating but I refrain from triggering her further.
"I’m going ho," she says with a flat voice flat. Sothing in her eyes tell it’s not up to debate. "I’ll be staying with my parents."
"Maddi, please..."
"Don’t." She lifts her chin, defiant even through the tears. "I can’t do this with you right now. I need so space."
Space? Is she breaking up with . I try not to dwell on the endless interpretations of her sentence and what it could an for us. It takes everything in to convince her to let at least drive her there. She finally agrees. In the car, she sits stiff and silent beside . Her body is angled toward the window which is never a good sign.
When I drop her off, she gets down and doesn’t say goodbye. She doesn’t even look back at .
The slam of the door reverberates inside long after she disappears into her parents’ house.
***
By the ti I return to the mansion, the storm has slowed to a mist. The air is damp and heavy. The mont I step inside, mother’s heels click against the marble as she rushes toward , her silk dress whispering around her legs.
"Ashal," she says quickly, her hand outstretched like she ans to cup my face. "Where’s Madeline? Did you find her?"
I shoulder past her with my jaw clenched. "Please, not now."
Her voice sharpens as she follows up the stairs. "Ashal! What happened? Where is she?"
But I don’t stop. I can’t look at her or talk about Maddi right now, not without recalling her accusatory eyes and hearing the finality in her tone as she asked for so space. The image of her disappearing into her parents’ house without looking back is seared into like a brand, as well as her words.
I push into the ga room instead, the one place in this house that sotis muffles the weight of our family na. Asher is in there getting off what appears to be an uncomfortable phone call with a glass of bourbon balanced in his hand.
He looks up the instant I slam the door behind . His eyes flick over my face, taking in the tremor in my jaw while I take in the storm brewing inside him. He sets the glass down slowly and hustles towards .
"We need to talk," he says in a clipped tone.
I start to snap that I don’t have the strength, not tonight, but the way his eyes remain hard makes my chest tighten with more worry. His posture is too controlled and that is also never a good sign.
"What now?" I ask, dragging a hand down my face.
"It’s about Ashton."
My pulse spikes up again, but before I can demand an explanation, the door opens. Ashley slips in with a tight expression on his face.
"I checked. The evidence exists...and it’s really incriminating." he says flatly, avoiding my eyes.
My stomach drops. What evidence?
Asher’s teeth grind audibly. He runs a hand through his perfectly slicked-back hair, then slams the heel of his palm against the card table. The bourbon trembles in its glass.
"Damn it," he mutters, barely holding back a snarl. "I should have handled this myself. I should have looked into Iman’s bluff. Ashton wouldn’t be in this ss if I had listened to my gut."
I look between them, perplexed. "What are you talking about? What evidence? What—" Then it clicks. There’s only one evidence out there which Iman claid soone was about to leak, and it involves a cri I committed a while back. Was Ashton being held for this?
Ashley affirms my thought. "Ashton took the fall for you, Ashal. He admitted to the cri."
The words gut . I stare at him, unable to process it. "No."
Ashley doesn’t flinch. His gaze pins rcilessly. "Yes, he did. Classic Ashton. That nutcase. He bluntly pled guilty to the officer to protect you."
I shake my head, stumbling back a step. "No. That’s... that’s impossible. He shouldn’t have done that—I would never ask him to..."
"You never have to ask," Ashley snaps. "He decided for himself. He always decides for himself when it cos to you, to us."
I grip the edge of the table so hard my fingers ache. My breath cos out shallow and panicked. "He—he can’t. He shouldn’t do that, not for . He’s also got his life to live. And Demi...what’s going to happen to them."
Ashley’s eyes glint. "He knows all that and yet he did it anyway. Because that’s Ashton, isn’t it? Always so damn noble. Always ready to bleed so the rest of us don’t have to dirty our hands. And this ti he bled for you."
My voice cracks. "Then I’ll go. I’ll turn myself in. He shouldn’t—he shouldn’t rot for ."
Asher moves so fast I don’t see it coming. His hand slams flat against my chest, shoving back from the door. His eyes burn into mine, colder than I’ve ever seen them.
"No one is going to jail," he says, his voice low and lethal.
The air between us hums thickly. My throat works around the words I want to say but the fury radiating off him shuts up.
"You don’t get it, do you?" Asher hisses. "Do you have any idea what it would do to this family if the press got their hands on this? You think your sacrifice would make it right, but it would rip us apart. You’re not as strong ntally as he is. With everything else you have going on, jail would destroy you, Ashal. Ashton knew that. That’s why he acted before you could. But he’s strong, and I’ll get him out of there."
Sha scorches from the inside out as tears blur my eyes. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t an to..."
Asher shoves into Ashley’s waiting arms as I breakdown. The weight of my day sinks my shoulders. After a few seconds, Asher pulls , and jabs a finger in my chest.
He exhales through his nose, forcing calm back into himself. "Listen to ," he says, his voice dropping to a asured cadence. "No one is confessing to anything. Not you, not Ashton. I’ll fix this. But in the anti, you two will keep this house steady. That ans covering for Ashton, keeping Mother distracted, and making sure she doesn’t sniff around where she shouldn’t."
Ashley shakes his head slowly. I manage a small nod myself.
Asher straightens, smoothing the lapels of his jacket, his face shuttered back into that unreadable mask of command. But before he can stride out, we all hear a familiar sound. Mother’s call echoes through the hall.
"Ashton!"
The three of us freeze, trading wide-eyed glances before rushing out.
We bolt into the hallway, and there he is.
Ashton storms through the foyer with his eyes low and his shoulders rigid. His hair’s a ss. Mother rushes forward, her hands outstretched.
"Ashton, darling—"
He shrugs her off without so much as a glance.
"Ashton!" I call, my voice cold as steel but he doesn’t look at . He doesn’t look at any of us. He takes the long steps, fury radiating from him in waves. We follow a few paces just until we see him slam his bedroom door hard.
The silence he leaves behind is deafening.
I turn slowly, my pulse still thrumming in my ears.
No one spoke to the police. None of us pulled strings. None of us brought him back, and yet...
How’s he free?
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