Chapter 95
Chapter 95
The night road stretched ahead of them, slick with reflected streetlights, the city thinning into quieter lanes as the car sped away from the hospital. Inside the vehicle, the atmosphere was tense but falsely controlled, like men convincing themselves they were still in charge of something that had already slipped beyond them.
The woman sat in the back seat, shoulders wrapped in a borrowed hospital coat, head tilted slightly toward the window. Her eyes followed the passing lights, calm, observant, far too clear for someone who was supposed to have lost her memory.
The man in the front passenger seat glanced at her through the rearview mirror, then looked away quickly, unsettled by the feeling that she was watching him rather than the road.
After several minutes, she spoke.
“Where are you taking me?”
The question was soft, almost casual, but it sliced through the car like a blade.
The driver stiffened. The man beside him turned around sharply, forcing a laugh. “What do you mean? We told you already. Home for now. Tomorrow, we arrange for you to travel abroad. Mom and Dad are worried sick.”
She frowned slightly, as if processing his words. “Home?” she repeated. “Which home?”
The man’s smile tightened. “Don’t start this again. You hit your head. You’re confused.”
She tilted her head toward him, studying his face with sudden intensity. “Confused?” she echoed. “Interesting choice of word.”
Before he could respond, her hand shot forward.
Fingers like iron clamped around his throat.
The sound he made was not a scream, but a strangled gasp, his body jerking as he clawed uselessly at her wrist. The driver slammed the brakes instinctively, the car swerving slightly before straightening again.
“What the hell-!” the driver shouted, reaching for his weapon.
The second man in the back seat lunged toward her, panic flashing across his face. “Let go! Let go of him!”
She didn’t even look at him.
Her grip tightened.
Veins bulged along the man’s neck as his face turned red, then purple. His feet kicked weakly, heels striking the dashboard.
The driver’s voice shook. “Easy! Easy! She’s not herself–must be the injury. She’s delirious!”
The woman laughed softly.
“Delirious?” she said. “No. That was the lie you were counting on.”
She leaned closer to the man she was holding, her voice dropping to a whisper meant only for him. “I didn’t lose my memory. Not a second of it. And coming to that hospital to take me away…” Her eyes hardened. “That was the worst mistake you could have made.”
She released him suddenly, and he collapsed back into his seat, coughing violently, hands clutching his throat as he sucked in
air.
The driver drew his gun fully now, hands trembling as he pointed it toward her. “Enough! Sit back and cooperate!”
The man beside him did the same, both weapons trained on her chest.
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For a moment, the car was filled with the sound of ragged breathing and the hum of the engine.
Then she smiled.
A slow, knowing smile that made their blood run cold.
“You really think I’m like you?” she asked calmly. “First you frame the man who saved me. Then you kidnap me in the same breath.” Her gaze flicked between the guns, unimpressed. “You’re either very brave, or very stupid.”
“Shut up!” the driver yelled. “Hands where I can see them!”
She sighed, as though disappointed.
“Thank goodness the hospital isn’t far,” she said lightly. “I was hoping you’d make this interesting.”
They didn’t understand what she meant until it was too late.
The guns wrenched themselves from their hands as if yanked by invisible chains, metal twisting and groaning before snapping cleanly away. The men screamed in shock as the weapons slammed against the ceiling, then crumpled inward like crushed cans.
The car doors locked with a sharp mechanical click.
“What did you do?!” one of them shouted, pounding at the handle. “Open it! Open the damn door!”
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she reached forward, pressed her palm lightly against the back of the driver’s seat, and whispered something they
couldn’t hear.
The engine roared.
The car surged forward violently, accelerating beyond control. The driver screamed as he fought the wheel, sweat pouring down his face. The road blurred, streetlights streaking into lines of fire.
“This isn’t possible!” the man beside him sobbed. “i don’t think she’s human!”
She leaned back calmly, as though riding in a leisurely carriage rather than a speeding coffin. “I never said I was.”
The smell of fuel filled the car.
They realized too late what she intended.
“No–no, please!” one of them begged. “We were just hired! We didn’t know-!”
She met his eyes in the mirror, her expression unreadable. “I know.”
Her finger flicked.
A sharp burst of energy shot downward, piercing straight through the floor toward the fuel tank.
The explosion was immediate.
Fire swallowed the car in a violent bloom, metal screaming as it tore apart. The shockwave hurled debris across the road, flames licking high into the night sky.
In the same instant, she was gone.
She emerged from the fireball like a shadow slipping through light, her body briefly wreathed in flame before it peeled away from her skin as if burned by her will instead. She landed hard on the asphalt several meters away, rolling once before coming to rest near the roadside barrier.
Smoke filled the air. The wreck burned fiercely, no movement inside.
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She lay still.
When the first sirens sounded in the distance, she let her body go slack, breathing shallow, skin marked with superficial burns she allowed to remain. Her eyes fluttered closed.
By the time the ambulance arrived, the scene looked exactly as it should have.
A destroyed vehicle. Three bodies burned beyond recognition inside. One survivor thrown clear by the blast, barely conscious.
“She’s alive!” a paramedic shouted, kneeling beside her. “Pulse is weak but steady!”
They lifted her carefully onto a stretcher, oxygen mask placed over her face. As they loaded her into the ambulance, one of the responders glanced back at the wreckage, shaking his head. “She’s lucky. Anyone else would’ve been dead on impact.”
If only he knew.
As the ambulance doors closed and the vehicle sped back toward the hospital, her lips curved beneath the mask.
Lucky wasn’t the word.
Inside the hospital, alarms rang as she was rushed back through the same corridors she’d left less than forty eight hours.
They wheeled her into an emergency ward, and once again she became the fragile accident victim everyone believed her to be.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
