Zinnia
The first thing I felt was the ache in my chest. It wasn’t sharp or unbearable, but it was there, a dull, insistent reminder that my body had been through hell. I blinked slowly, the sterile white walls of the room coming into focus. Where was I? The memories hovered just out of reach, like trying to grab smoke with my fingers.
Then, I saw her. Alex. She stood by the window, arms crossed, looking like she’d been dragged through as much hell as I had. Her hair was a mess, and her face looked pale, almost haunted. When our eyes met, hers widened like a deer caught in headlights. She hadn’t expected me to be awake.
“Zinnia…” Alex said, her voice soft but filled with something I couldn’t quite place. Guilt? Fear?
I tried to sit up, but my body felt heavy, like I’d been nailed to the bed. “What… what happened?” My throat was dry, the words rasping out as if I hadn’t spoken in weeks.
Alex froze. Her eyes darted to the door, and for a second, I thought she might run. And she tried. I saw her move toward the door, her movements quick and jittery, but I wasn’t letting her go that easily. My hand shot out, grabbing hers before she could leave.
“Don’t,” I said, my voice hoarse but firm. “Don’t run.”
She stopped, her back to me. I could feel her trembling through the connection of our hands. Slowly, she turned, her face a mix of panic and something darker, something she was trying to bury deep inside.
“You shouldn’t be awake,” she muttered, avoiding my eyes. “The doctor said-”
“I don’t care what the doctor said,” I half yelled. “You’re not leaving. Not until you tell me what’s going on with you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten,”
Alex hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Zinnia… please. You need rest.”
“Don’t do that,” I snapped. “Don’t pretend like you’re worried about me when you haven’t come to visit me since I was found. You’re obviously hiding something. You’ve been acting weird since before… before I was taken.”
Alex’s face crumpled at my words, and something flickered in her eyes: pain, regret. She pulled her hand free, but instead of running, she sat in the chair beside my bed, her shoulders slumping like she carried the weight of the world.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she whispered, her voice breaking the same way it had right before I was taken.
“What do you mean?” My heart started to race, memories beginning to claw their way to the surface. The last time I’d seen Alex before everything went to hell, she’d been apologizing over and over again, like she was trying to convince herself as much as me. But she wouldn’t tell me what for.
“You kept saying you were sorry,” I pressed, leaning forward despite the protest of my aching body. “Why, Alex? What were you apologizing for?”
She didn’t answer right away. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, her fingers twisting together like she was trying to physically hold herself together. When she finally looked at me, her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.
“Because it’s my fault,” she said, her voice barely audible.
“Your fault?” I echoed, confused. “What are you talking about?”
The dam broke then. Alex started to cry, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. “I didn’t know what else to do, Zinnia! I thought… I thought he’d help us, help you. I thought Reed was a bad influence on you. He was dragging you into his devilish world and you were gradually becoming like him. I called him. I didn’t know he’d-” She choked on her words, covering her face with her hands.
“Who, Alex?” I demanded, my frustration mounting. “Who are you talking about?”
She shook her head, her words muffled behind her hands. “I should’ve known better. I should’ve never gone to him. If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been taken. You wouldn’t have… you wouldn’t have gone through all that. I wouldn’t have….,” Alex sobbed profusely, barely unable to keep her emotions in tact.
Nothing she said made sense. “Alex, who did you go to? What are you talking about?”
Her hands dropped from her face, and she looked at me with such raw guilt that it made my stomach twist. “My dad,” she whispered.
I stared at her, stunned. “Your dad? What… I don’t understand. You’ve never talked about your dad. I thought you didn’t have one.” Alex and I became friends in the weirdest way. We talked about almost everything except family and I always just assumed that just like me, Alex didn’t have a family to call her own.
She laughed bitterly, the sound full of self-loathing. “Yeah, that’s what I wanted you to think. It was easier that way. Safer to think he was dead.”
“Safer?” My head was spinning. None of this was making any sense. “Alex, you’re not making any sense.”
She took a deep, shaky breath, as if she was bracing herself for what she was about to say. “My name isn’t just Alexandra Grey,”
She says matter-of-factly as if it’s supposed to mean something. The name meant nothing to me. I frowned, trying to piece together what she was saying. “Okay… and?”
Alex’s gaze dropped to the floor, and she let out a bitter sigh. “Of course, you wouldn’t know. Why would you? You had no idea what kind of world you were dragged into.” She looked back at me, her eyes full of pain and regret. “My name is Alexandra Greystoke. My father is Lucas Greystoke. The man who helped abduct you.”
The words hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. My mind reeled, trying to process what she’d just said. Alexandra Greystoke. Lucas Greystoke. The man who…
It burst out in a boisterous laughter, my sides aching from how hard I was laughing. Clearly, Alex didn’t expect me to believe that Lucas Greystoke, a man who’s philanthropic deeds proceeds his his name was a –
“He’s known in the underground world as Viper,” Alex cuts me. Blood drains from my face as I take in her reaction.
No.
It couldn’t be.
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