Brought By Destiny

Chapter 4

Awakenings and Silent Trust

Lilly’s POV:

My entire body is a map of dull, throbbing aches, but beneath me,
I feel the unfamiliar sensation of something soft and luxurious. Slowly prying my eyes open, I find myself in a beautiful, unfamiliar bedroom. I am lying on a king-size bed, dressed in a light yellow nightgown that definitely doesn’t belong to me. I gingerly push myself up into a sitting position, every muscle protesting the movement.

My left arm is neatly bandaged. The room is striking, decorated entirely in a modern black-and-white aesthetic. Panic begins to claw at my chest. Where am I? Did those men catch me? And where is Ryan?

“Oh God!” I whisper. Tossing the heavy duvet aside, I scramble off the bed. I throw open the door and hurry toward the stairs, guided by the sound of faint voices drifting up from the ground floor.

As I descend, the scene in the living room comes into view, and I freeze.
I blink rapidly, questioning if I’m dreaming or hallucinating. What is he doing here? Confusion swirls in my mind until the memories of the night flash back, the dark road, the blinding headlights of an approaching car, my own scream, and then the darkness.

He is sitting on the sofa, playing video games on the large TV. Ryan is perched comfortably on his lap.

“Momy!” Ryan squeals, his sharp eyes catching me first.

He hops down and runs toward me in pure excitement.

Michael looks up, and our gazes lock. We stare at each other in a heavy, blank silence for a moment before Ryan crashes into my legs, hugging them tight.

I bend over, wincing slightly as I scoop him up into a fierce embrace. If they had taken him, I wouldn't have survived the night. He is the only reason I’m still breathing; without him, I would have ended my misery a long time ago.

Tears stream uncontrollably down my face. I hug him so tightly it’s as if I’m trying to fuse him to my soul, peppering his face with kisses.

“Baby, are you okay? Nothing happened to you, right?” I check his little arms and legs, looking for any sign of injury.

He just shakes his head, giving me a bright, wide smile. That smile... it reminds me so much of someone, but I can’t let myself go there right now. I bury my face in his neck and cry again. Ryan pulls back, his small hands wiping the tears from my cheeks before he leans in to kiss my face.

“Momy! No cry. Smile, Ran...” he says, beaming.

Despite the pain, I let out a wet laugh. He still can’t pronounce his name correctly.

“It’s Ryan... Say Ry-an,” I say, gently pinching his cheek.

“Ran... I say Ran, Momy,” he insists, his smile never wavering.

I shake my head and ruffle his hair, but the sound of someone clearing their throat brings my attention back to the man in the room. I look up to see Michael standing nearby.

He offers a small smile. Not knowing how to act, I give him a weak, trembling smile in return.

“Ryan buddy, why don’t you try a new game while I speak with Mommy for a minute?” Michael suggests.

Ryan happily hops off my lap and trots back to the sofa, fully immersed in his game.

I stand there, rooted to the spot, feeling utterly lost. Michael walks closer, stopping at a respectful distance.

“Come, have something to eat; then we’ll talk,” he says in a calm, steady voice.

I nod and follow him into the kitchen. He gestures for me to sit at the dining table, and I obey, quietly admiring the clean, organized space. He served me a plate of food. I don't even stop to see what it is; I just start eating.