Vendetta

The Shattered Awakening

                         Edward's pov

As my eyes fluttered open, the room gradually came into focus. The harsh, sterile lights above me glared down, and a sharp scent of antiseptic filled my nostrils. But that wasn’t what made my breath catch—it was the small, familiar face gazing down at me, her blue eyes wide with tears of joy.

“Luna?” I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of shock and confusion surging through me. “How did you get here? Where…where am I?”

Before she could answer, the sound of hurried footsteps filled the room. I turned my head, ignoring the sudden throb that shot through my skull, and saw my father burst through the door. His face was a mix of relief and distress as he rushed to my side, his hands trembling as they found their way to my hair, smoothing it back with the gentleness of a parent who had feared the worst.

“Dad?” I murmured, still disoriented. My mind raced to piece together the fragmented memories. “What’s going on? What happened?”

His voice trembled as he spoke, a blend of relief and something darker, something more vengeful. “Everything’s going to be okay now, son. You’re safe. We’re going to make sure of that.”

Safe? The word echoed in my mind as I struggled to remember. And then it hit me—the memories came rushing back like a flood. The tension as Jordi and I left the Whitemore mansion, the relief at finally having something solid against the Alchemist, and then…the crash. The blinding impact. The darkness that swallowed everything.

I blinked, trying to shake off the remnants of that abyss. “Dad, where am I? Are we in Washington?”

But before he could answer, a doctor entered the room, his presence commanding as he approached my bedside. “Mr. Harbour, I need you to step aside, please.”

My father reluctantly moved away, though his eyes never left me. The doctor leaned over me, checking my pupils, shining a small light into them as he asked, “Edward, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”

I nodded weakly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah…I think so.”

The doctor seemed satisfied with whatever he found, but he wasn’t done. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a syringe. “This is just a mild sedative to help you rest,” he explained as he injected it into my arm. I felt the cool liquid spread through my veins, numbing the sharp edges of my anxiety.

“Let him rest,” the doctor said, turning to my father. “He’s been through a lot. You can talk to him a bit, but it’s crucial that he gets some sleep.”

As the doctor left, the tension in the room didn’t lift. If anything, it thickened, pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake. I turned back to my father, who was now sitting in the chair beside my bed, his hand resting on mine.

He hesitated, his eyes darkening with anger. “You were in an accident, Edward. But I won’t let this go. Whoever did this to you…they’ll pay. I promise you that.”

His words should have comforted me, but instead, they only deepened my unease. The world around me started to blur at the edges again, the sedative taking hold. The last thing I saw before everything faded to black was the fierce determination in my father’s eyes, a promise of retribution that chilled me to the bone.

As the darkness closed in, I clung to the thought of Luna, to the warmth of her small hand in mine. But even that slipped away as the blackness swallowed me whole, leaving me once again lost in the void.

Time passed in a strange haze. I could hear voices, distant yet familiar, filtering through the fog of my consciousness. Jordi’s voice, calm and measured, mingled with my father’s, who sounded strained, worried. Jordi must have arrived. But how is he? How is everyone?

I forced my eyes open, but my vision was blurry, everything around me just shapes and colors blending together. My heart pounded in my chest as I saw a figure moving near my bed. My breath caught in my throat—was it Katherine?

But as the haze lifted, the figure came into focus, revealing itself to be Sarah. Disappointment washed over me, and I scanned the room quickly, searching for any sign of Katherine. She wasn’t there. My heart sank, and I squeezed my eyes shut again, hoping to block out the bitter sting of reality.

But then, I heard my father’s voice again, louder this time, filled with determination. “I’m bringing Edward back to Washington. I won’t let him stay in Salem any longer.”

I forced myself to speak, my voice weak but resolute. “I’m not going anywhere.” The room went silent, and I felt all eyes turn toward me. Luna, bless her, was the first to react, rushing to my side.

“Edward!” she cried out, her voice full of relief.

My father, ever the stubborn man, replied firmly, “We’ll talk about this once you’ve recovered. But we’re going back. No matter what.”

I shook my head, my resolve hardening. “I’m not going,” I repeated, my voice stronger now. “I have work to do.”

“Edward,” my father said, exasperated, “I can provide you with a hundred times better job than this. Once you’ve recovered, we’re leaving. End of discussion.”

“I’m not going,” I said again, this time with finality.

“Oh my God, Edward,” he muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. “You’re just as stubborn as your mother. I’ve already lost her, and I won’t lose you too.”

His words cut through me like a knife. I looked at Luna, who had gone pale, the joy drained from her face. My father noticed too and seemed to realize the impact of his words. He looked away, pain and regret etched into his features.

Jordi, sensing the tension, gave a subtle signal to Sarah, who quickly took Luna out of the room, murmuring comforting words to her. My father slumped back onto the couch, his head in his hands.

Jordi moved closer to me, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

I managed a small smile. “I should be asking you that. How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, brushing off the question. “Just worried about you. We all are.”

“Where’s Katherine?” I asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. Jordi hesitated, his expression shifting to something almost guilty.

“She…had to go to the office for some work,” he said, but his tone was unconvincing.

I laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and cynical. “Right. Work. I knew she didn’t want to be here. Maybe I was wrong about her. Maybe she never really cared.”

“Edward, give her some time,” Jordi urged, but I shook my head, feeling a wave of frustration and anger rise within me.

“How can I? This is madness, Jordi. All of it. I’ve gone mad.”

I was lost in my thoughts, spiraling deeper into despair when a nurse approached my father, whispering something to him. He nodded and stood up, leaving the room with her. Jordi, sensing my need for distraction, leaned closer and said, “By the way, Robert called. He’s been checking in on you.”

But my mind was elsewhere. Katherine. Why didn’t she care enough to visit? Why was she so distant now, when I needed her the most?

Just then, the door opened, and a man entered the room, carrying a bouquet of orchids, a box, and a letter. He looked around, then asked, “Is this Edward Harbour?”

Jordi stood up and nodded, moving toward the man. The delivery guy handed him the items, and Jordi signed the paper. “Looks like someone really cares about you,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood as he handed me the bouquet.

Orchids. My favorite. My heart skipped a beat. Could it be Katherine? Was she embarrassed and decided to send me flowers instead?

With a flicker of hope, I opened the box—then my heart stopped. Inside was a severed finger, bloodied and gruesome. I recoiled, throwing the box away from me in horror. Jordi’s face turned ashen, and he stood frozen in disbelief.

“What the hell…” I muttered, my voice trembling. “What is this? Are they trying to threaten me?”

Jordi, snapping out of his shock, picked up the letter that had come with the box. “Open it,” he said, his voice grim.

My hands shook as I took the letter and unfolded it. My heart raced as I read the words:

---

Dearest Edward,

I wish you a swift recovery. It pains me to know that something so vile has befallen you. Rest assured, we will not tolerate any harm directed at our guests. The finger you received belongs to Damien Whitemore, who attempted to hurt you. We took care of it. Please, focus on your recovery, and know that we are watching over you.

If you ever wish to learn more about us, all you had to do was ask. My email is always open to you.

Aurora Della Rossa

---

I crumpled the letter in my fist, a mix of revulsion and disbelief washing over me. “Email her? Like I even had her email?” I scoffed bitterly, the irony of it all twisting in my gut.

Jordi looked at me, his expression a mixture of concern and unease. “Edward, it seems like they don’t want to hurt you. Or any of us.”

But the memory of what happened earlier, the crash, the violence, flashed through my mind. “Maybe I’m wrong,” Jordi added quietly.

We both sat in silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on us. Aurora Della Rossa—she wasn’t my mother, but what was her connection to all of this? What did she want with me? The questions spun in my mind, each more troubling than the last.

But one thing was clear: she was dangerous. And I was caught in the middle of a game far more deadly than I had ever imagined. The mystery of her motives and her connection to my mother remained unsolved, and the fear of what might come next lingered, like a shadow I couldn’t escape.